Dalry had been unloading the cargo of the ship for several hours now. From getting the crates out, to unpacking the crates themselves, and then transporting the supplies to where they needed to go. It was a therapeutic job. But slowly, crowds had started forming, and they were shouting. The didn't want to wait for the supplies to be distributed. They wanted them right now. Dalry couldn't blame them. She was alright today but during winter, when her crops wouldn't grow, she was just as hungry and miserable as these people seemed to be.

As she was moving a trolley past the line, a man angrily stopped her. "That food should be being given to us!" he shouted. Dalry, now shivering a little, pointed a shaking hand to the breadline and responded meekly with "...it is..." The man then tried to snatch one of the boxes from the trolley but before either of them knew what Dalry was doing, she's grabbed his arm, thrown him over her shoulder and had a boot on his neck as she was pulling his arm back. His yells of pain snapped her out of it, and she let him go, before stumbling back to her trolley and willing her legs to walk away as everyone around her had gone quiet.

Once she was away from them, she choked back a sob. She was going to dislocate his arm. Before she stopped herself with reason. She could feel her arms about to perform the wrenching action. She was an idiot to take this job, and once word of this gets out, they'll realise they were an idiot to hire her. The gossip will spread and Dalry will be lucky if she even gets nanny jobs anymore. She'll just be alone in her room, all day, every day. Maybe that's the safest way. Maybe that's what she deserves.

The ex-soldier shook her head, and kept going. Just deliver these food supplies. Then what happens next will happen next.