NATALIE.

The walk to the pack was frigid with silence.

There was nothing I wanted to say to him and I am pretty sure he didn't want to speak to me.

So, why pray tell, does he keep sneaking glances at me?

It is infuriating.

“If you have something to say, just say it!’ I snap.

“What?”

“You keep sneaking looks at me. I can see them, so what is it?’

“I was… curious.”

I wait a few seconds for him to continue but he doesn't.

“Curious?”

“About where you came from.”

“What about it?”

“How were your living conditions?” he asks.

“You ask that like you think I was...