Misha flinched. "..Ya really don't give a shit about me, do you?" She followed slower, kicking at the leaf litter below her feet. She remembered with a jolt that they never found any firewood. She felt cold and damp in her clothes, now bitten through by the moisture in the air and the drips of water down the trees. It was nothing like the desert. "I just thought you might like to know there's a boogeyman out there," she said, voice low.