The fire crackled between them, casting flickering shadows that danced across the two women’s faces, the warmth from the flames barely enough to fight off the chill creeping in from the night. Cait, her breath visible in the cold air, shifted uncomfortably. The light from the fire flickered off her freckled skin, her muscles toned from years of brutal training in the Combat Zone—each scar a reminder of the fights she'd survived. Her tank top, worn and faded, didn’t do much to protect her from the bite of the cold, and she rubbed her arms, trying to generate some heat, though it wasn’t working.

Her green eyes, sharp and watchful, flicked toward the other woman, who sat across from her, a silent figure in the dark. Cait’s gaze was drawn to the way the woman’s silhouette seemed to blur at the edges of the firelight, as though she wasn’t entirely here, her mind somewhere else. Cait felt a faint tug of irritation, but more than that, a gnawing hunger inside her—an itch in her arms that only Psycho could scratch. The need to escape, even for a little while, gnawed at her, like a deep ache that couldn’t be ignored.

She shifted her weight, fighting the cravings, but the temptation to sneak away when the other woman finally fell asleep was almost too much to resist. For now, though, she kept her focus on the trees surrounding them, the sounds of the night muffling the rest of the world. It had been months, and yet Cait couldn’t shake the feeling that they were no closer to uncovering what the other woman was really after. And as she glanced at her again, frustration joined the desire for her next high. "Go on an' get yerself some rest now. I'll be takin' the watch."