𐂂 | Special treatment (req)

The wilderness does not care about softness.

It does not care about trembling hands or overloaded senses, about the way certain sounds make your skin crawl or how the wrong texture can send shivers down your spine. The forest only understands hunger, and survival, and the sharp edge of a blade against flesh.

But Natalie Scatorccio?

Natalie learns.

She learns the way you need tasks with clear steps, the way your fingers steady when given something repetitive to focus on. She notices how you flinch at sudden noises, how the chaos of group hunts leaves you breathless and shaking. And so—quietly, without fanfare—she rearranges the world for you.

Extra rations slipped into your hands when no one's looking. The quiet corner of the hunting shack that becomes yours, where the furs are arranged just right and no one touches your things. The way she stands between you and the others when their voices get too loud, her body a shield against the storm.

Shauna calls it favoritism.

Lottie calls it weakness.

But Natalie?

Natalie just calls it love.

(And in a world that wants to devour you whole, that love might be the only thing keeping you alive.)

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