The fading light cast long dark shadows over the forest floor. She didn't move from her shelter of boulder walls and trees limb, dirt, leaf and twig roof. She crouched down at the tiny entrance to her hide away. Her stomach fluttered with hunger.

As soon as the night settled she crawled from the entrance. She hoped that at least one or two of the traps had caught a prize. She hated eating grubs. She cocked her head listening to the night. There were no foreign sounds so she made her way to the first snare trap. Unfortunately, it remained empty.

The next two traps were the same. The fourth however sported a fat grey rabbit. She retrieved the rabbit and reset the trap. The fifth and final trap was empty too.

She made her way to the small body of water to the east of her shelter. At the edge of the water she collected cattails. She only collected three total plants. The roots and stalks were good to eat. The fluffy tops were good firestarter fuel.

The moon shone down and lighted the night making it easy to see. In the water a reflection glowed as she washed the dirt from the cattail roots.

Next she made her way to a tree that had fallen in a storm two years before. She debated the need to collect any grubs but decided it was best to have them and not need them then need them and not have them.

She placed the fat, white worms in a deerskin pouch at her waist.

Next she found some other edible plants that were put in another bag.

She made her way to the stone table. It wasn't really a table. It was just a two foot long flat top rock. It sat at a slight angle that allowed liquid to drain effortlessly from its surface.

She untied the rabbits feet from the thin rope at her hip. She cut the rabbit open at its belly. She removed the internal organs; she sat aside the heart, lungs, liver, and other useful organs. She removed the paws and head. Afterwards she skinned the remains.

By the time she finished there was very little waste. The feet could be dried and traded. She could use the rabbit's brains to process the skin for her own use. The stomach could be made into a tiny pouch. Almost everything had at least one use. Most of the intestinal tract could be turned in to strips of rope after being cleaned, cut, soaked in the brain solution for a few days, dried and scrapped again.

She cleaned up the mess, buried the waste and made her way back to her shelter.

The night sounded silent as she passed the split pine tree. She froze. She made her breathing slow and even. People think nighttime is quite. It's not, or rather it shouldn't be.

She listened carefully for any sound. Hearing nothing she still couldn't relax. Something was wrong, the forest knew it, and she just hadn't located the cause yet.

The silence stretched out around her broken only by the soft wind high in the trees. She shifted her eyes from one area to another. She should have found the disturbance but she saw and heard nothing.

There was no glimmer of movement, no crunch of leaf or twig, no scent of musk, soap, smoke or sweat that should not be there.

The forest had grown used to her presents long ago so what caused this unnatural silence?

Sunrise would arrive in just a few hours and she needed to cook and extinguish the fire before the sun came.

Determined she moved cautiously forward. She had moved no more than a thousand feet when the unnerving silence broke.

The noise so low that had the night not been holding its breath she wouldn't have been able to hear it.

She stalked towards the sound. It had been close to the sound the orphan skunk kits had made last fall.

Ducking low she peered under the thick low hanging boughs of a pine.

She sucked in a quick breath. A man lay under the meager shelter. His nude body half covered under dirt, twigs, pine needles and blood.

It was clear the blood was his own. She studied him. Her heart lurched as she studied his face.

He didn't have a beard so she clearly saw that his lip was swollen and a small split had allowed a trickle of blood to flow from his lip.

His skin was smooth, tan, and his lashes lay dark and long over his upper cheeks. His hair had been cut short but she saw it was just as dark as his lashes.

Blood still trickled from a circular wound below his left collar bone. She flinched when he moaned softly.

She didn't trust humans. But she felt a need to help this one. It was like a bug drawn to the light of a fires flame. She knew she would get burned but had no choice.

With a heavy sigh she released the limb as she stepped backwards.

She made her way to her Hide. Started a fire, put water onto boil, placed the meat on a drying limb and removed almost all of her hunting gear. She gathered the dear skin and rope.

Leaving the Hide she walked ten minutes northwest. She crouched down and brushed away the dirt. She found only one other injury. A long gash on his left hip.

The first contact of her fingers across his skin caused a tingle to shoot up from her finger tips and into her chest. Her breath caught in her lungs.

The voice in her head purred. Mine, mine, yes mine. She jerked back.

The voice had been silent so long she had almost forgotten it existed.

Now it seemed to hum and purr relentlessly. Help, fix, save, mine. It demanded.

SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP. She yelled at it.

She had heard the voice since she was four. She didn't know that others didn't hear voices in their heads so had no idea it was best to keep it secret.

At first her parents had though it was an imaginary friend. But at five they took her to a therapist. At six they said she suffered from a bunch of big words she didn't understand and couldn't pronounce.

At nine the more she insisted the voice was real the worse the 'treatments' got. When her mother died in a car wreck her father sent her away where the 'treatments' continued. He cried. He told her he loved her but had no idea what to do to help her.

By age 11 she pretended the voice didn't exist unless she was alone in her tiny white room.

Evodin, the voice, was the sole cause of her pain. She told Evodin that she hated her.

Evodin promised to help her escape from the tiny room. She waited a year. They didn't escape.

She hated Evodin. When she was 12 she realized Evodin could hear her with direct thoughts. But she no longer spoke to Evodin. As far as she was concerned Evodin did not exist.

One of the nurses approached her one day. "Next week is your birthday. Your dad is visiting tomorrow." She smiled. "Since you don't hear the voice anymore the doctors may let you go home."

This is the first she had heard of this. If they knew the voice still spoke to her she'd never go home.