Ronan hated animals. He hated strangers more. It would be fair to say that he hated strays more than anything. In Violet's defense, she never found any wild animals. Instead, it was usually a wild person...? **Outcast?** Looking for food. Ronan had warned her more than enough times that it was going to get them killed someday.

It wasn't in her nature to not care.

It was probably one of the contributing causes as to why he had forced them to relocate to the woods and had set up half a mile worth of traps. Who knew he was so good at survival? Though she trusted him and he was a father to her, Violet still found him to be shady and wasn't sure she wanted to know where he had learned such precision.

Stepping back into the diameter of the camp, Violet held a bag in her left hand, sliding beneath a long abandoned wooden fence. The smell of smoke entered her nostrils and she was aware that Ronan had probably already started their fire for the night. They had been living like this, like clockwork, for almost four years now.

**"Darlin, is that you?"**

She stepped through the dirt, standing behind him. He was hunched over next to the fire, **"Yeah, hi."** Without another word, she dropped the bag next to him and sat on the other side of the fire, hearing her stomach rumble. _She was starving._

**"Whattdya get?"**

**"Rabbit,"** she said with a bit of a huff, **"The deer move too fast."** Though Ronan's silence had compacted it: he was satisfied with the food. 

Well,_ good_.

 Because she had no intentions on going back out again, especially since the sun had already begun to set.