Some days it's painful how much I miss the sun. I used to go stand
outside in the biggest patch I could find when my kids went to recess.
Now, I can barely reach the thinnest sliver coming in the high window in
this room, and only for a few minutes in the afternoon.
It's safer not to have windows. It's safer to travel at night, during the new moon. It's safest indoors.
Some days, I want to stop caring about safe and just go outside.
John does. He says his little field trips help him stay sane, and
it does let us keep an eye on the area. I'm mostly too afraid to go myself ever since we separated from
my family. There was a hunter after us. He could have followed us, or chased my family. Or picked up our trail after he was ... done with them.
It's been two weeks since we left them. He likely would have shown himself or set a trap by now if he was here.
I hope they made it somewhere safe, but I'm pretty sure they're dead.
Or worse. I still haven't come to terms with the fact I'll never see
them again.
Maybe I'll go outside tomorrow.
