She Knows

The smell of pine needles and the rotting of leaves as it rises into the frosty morning air on the top of the mountains. The old lady sits down near the old cabin that she built when she was all alone and trying to survive the dying city.

The forest is perfectly still. The air is so quiet that she can hear her own and Daime's heartbeats. The crispy sounds from the dried leaves that sways along the winds.

The longing warmth from the winter cold nights. The brimming sun in the middle of the day is what makes her smile as she opens her eyes and instinctively places her rifle to her shoulder.

She positions it in front of her, right where the bushes are. Her target is unclear but Daime knows that she is aiming for something.

After a few intakes of breathing exercise, she pulls the trigger and the bullet passes through the bushes as it goes straight down the rocky parts of the mountain.