Roxxane's POV
Karl lets out a laugh that sounds more like a hiss. This boy is a f*****g animal. A snake.
I sling my pack over my shoulder. The straps settle the weight: water, rations, bandages, rope, a handful of sharpened things. I don't take everything; excess drags you down. "Have fun being a dick." I roll my eyes at him and step towards the exit where the groups gather where the hunt starts.
People are clustered in small knots, checking gear, adjusting straps, sharing nervous jokes. Canan is where he always is, mostly still and watching everyone with narrowed eyes. When I reach the courtyard he looks up, and for a second his eyes find me like a blade finding the right seam in cloth. I don't like it. I don't like the part of me that freezes for the smallest second.
"You're late."
