the huffed breath that left crickets lips couldn’t help but force a breathy laugh to leave from between his own. what she had exactly expected from him was beyond him, it wasn’t like he had been at all open to talking about anything personal before. she really set herself up for disappointment, though he couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d helped a little in her disappointment by answering, even if it was vague, in the first place. the stated question made his eyes flicker across her features, his head nodding slowly and softly in a sort of answer. his features growing to mirror the one that appeared on her usual upbeat and positive features. he couldn’t quite figure it out, but the missing smile upon her lips caused a small pang of hurt, his brows furrowing at her in his own confusion. though that was quickly wiped from view as it appeared once more.
with every word she spoke, he tried to hang on to the regret within him. forcing himself to dislike every word that came from her. no matter how hard it was. space. he needed space from the small closeness that he’d felt starting to form towards the girl. the look of disappointment, unlike before that had brought a feeling of hurt to him, only pushed him forwards. she should be disappointed, it was better than her feeling like they were on the way to becoming friends. “usually all the time.” he corrected, his eyebrows rising in a manner that almost hinted at being slightly threatening. “mongoose.” he repeated, a small hint of confusion breaking through the harshness. “you’re definitley never going to get to pick out a nickname if you’re going to go with mongoose.” he sighed, his eyes rolling before turning away from her. though as he glanced back at her, half expecting her to be there she’d vanished and his eyes quickly darted forwards to catch on her figure as she she rushed ahead to their destination ahead. a part of him wanted to walk away. to turn around and leave her here without a second thought. he knew he could do it easily, he’d done it when he’d first left the camp, and it would be easier now more than ever as she’d taken off in front of him. leaving him to trail along behind with his much slower steps. noah reckoned that he’d be able to get a fair distance from her, if he himself ran, before she realised he’d gone. but it was only her called words that broke him out of his thoughts, pulling him to attention. the thoughts of abandoning her here fading, both because the plan would no longer work and even though it was a quiet whisper in the back of his mind, he couldn’t leave her. he needed to figure out what in the world it was about her that made it so easy for him to slip up. to let the stoic mask fade and expose the person hidden underneath because if he didn’t—well, he couldn’t think about that. he couldn’t think about the fact that she could be someone he actually could grow to like, maybe even care about. she after all, had gotten this far. a place no one had gotten before without him deliberately letting them think they got their on their own when he’d wrapped them around his finger for his own gain before dropping them when they weren’t useful any longer. a breath left him as his fingers came to run frustratedly through his hair as he twisted where he’d come to a short stop. he gave one glance in the direction they come before finally, he broke into a jog. his feet easily covering the ground she’d put between them. only stopping as the waterfall came into view. when she’d said waterfall, he had imagined something a little different, but water was water. he hadn’t come for the view. “you know.” he started, as his eyes surveyed the area. both to make sure the coast was clear, and to take in the whole place. “when you said waterfall and the way you practically sprinted for it, i thought it would be a bit more impressive. you may as well call it a trickle instead.”
when he comments on the nickname she’s chosen, she shrugs, “what’s wrong with it? it sounds funny, and i kinda like it.” as she runs toward their destination, she doesn’t consider the idea that noah would leave. she doesn’t know why; she doesn’t trust him, that’s not in question - and her excitement could easily be to blame, but that isn’t quite it, either. perhaps, after mentioning that she easily gets lost, earlier, she thinks he has enough heart to not leave her to that fate: an assumption without much basis, and one that could cost her should she be wrong. still, when she turns and sees him jogging toward her, she’s delighted. she shakes her head at his words, giggling, “it doesn’t have to look impressive. i assure you, this place really saved my butt a long time ago, so don’t go knocking it!” her knowledge of this ‘waterfall’, in fact, comes with a story. back when her father abandons her, this waterfall is the first source of water she finds. it teaches her, in a way, how she has to get by on her own. in her exaggerated words, it’s her saviour: when she first emerges into the forest from the cave her father leaves her in, she carries the howling leaves of the feral woodland in her hair for days. she spends the evenings brushing loneliness from her skin, her flesh swollen with the force of rage, cruel and fierce with longing. she tears at herself as she trembles and quivers in the forest’s arms, dark hair tangled with the white knuckle of her fingers. be no fool, catherine, the winds whisper. this forest is not your forest. these trees are not your trees. the wastes will gnaw on your bones and make a meal from the dust of you. the world will take you apart, bone for bone, tooth for tooth, and feed you to its beasts. do you hear how the forest cries for you? how the trees move in their ancient trunks for you? how the beasts howl your name to the sky? catherine, catherine, we will devour you. but when she finds a waterfall after days on her own, young as she is, she knows she can survive out here. when she throws her head back with laughter, she rattles the forest free of mercy. the trees fall to their knees. the crows caw with fear.
( i will not be devoured.
can’t you see? i have teeth, too. )
since then, she’s returned to this waterfall on occasion, knowing of the resources it offers; it’s not one of her ‘favourite’ spots (she reserves those for beautiful views and immense heights), but it is one of many locations in the wastelands that play a role in what she’s become today - she beams at the tiny trickle of a thing with pride. “so, yeah! we can stock up around here. there aren’t any fish to eat or anything, obviously, but i think that’s just because it’s so small. i’m pretty sure it’s the cleanest source of water around for a while - which, granted, means it sometimes attracts, uh, animals, but if you find a safe spot some distance away, or some distance up, you can pretty much hunt really easily here, too.” she skims over the fact that not all the animals are docile. she smiles at noah, then, a soft little curl of her lips, going over to step near the edge of the pond, by the waterfall. she cups her hand underneath the flow, letting the cool trickle rinse over her palm. she lingers there, standing ankle-deep in the water. “see? you can finally admit that i’m not completely useless, now,” cricket grins, wide and toothy, flicking her wet hand in his direction to sprinkle him with tiny drops of water. she doesn’t do it to annoy him - in fact, she’s praying against it. but for someone so cheery, cricket’s never been too good at setting out to make someone else smile. she’s used to disregarding others in favour of herself, and she isn’t sure why it’s different, now; only that she’s accepted that it is.
