shane's baby bratting the absolute fuck out, attitude off the chain, huffing and puffing, "said m'fine, shane."
shane groans as he rises to his feet from the stump he was sitting on sharpening a knife, "alright, let's go." his hand is on your arm in an instant, dragging you back to your tent.
you're fighting the whole way, "git yer fuckin' hands off of me, god dammit." you huff. 
shane is sure as shit people are staring by now, scooping you up over his shoulder and ducking into the tent with you, setting you down with a hand over your mouth.
"you done? 'cause, girl i tell you what, i'm done with this attitude. s'tha'matter?" his hands are hot, smell like dirt and gun powder.
sweat is pouring down your forehead and tears are welling up, you're so overstimulated. the sun got way too hot before you finished the chores shane assigned you, you didn't even know why you had to do them, but shane insisted keeping you on a routine was good.
he's shushing you and closing the space between you, "member we talked about usin' your words?"
you nod and tears fall, "s'hot, daddy. m'just hot."
he sighs and his shoulders fall, "christ's sake, s'down baby, c'mon." he's rifling through a tote with all his camping shit in it, pulling out a battery operated fan. setting it up next to your makeshift bed with blankets and sleeping bags.
he's got it pointed right at your face, petting down your hair, "need a nap, girl. i'll be back in a little while to check on ya."
you're sniffling yourself to sleep, ready for the day to be over. shane is shaking his head, zipping the tent up.
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