Despite everything I’m pressed against the teen. I wince pushing away from the tense boar. He grunts in pain and disgust and I hear his mouth open in a breathy gasp. 

I flinch imagining those teeth digging into my shoulder. After a moment I hear the madman let out a noise of disbelief. Slowly I look up. I know he can feel my racing heart and see the fear in my eyes. He's looking away and still has that same expression of concern and looking like he’s going to be ill. He doubles over a little using his chin to press a little into me like he’s trying to comfort me. I don't see him glare at the madman. 

Slowly he turns his head towards me.  I stay still as though moving would cause him to snap. He is trying to get me to look at him but I keep staring straight ahead. I hold my chest with one hand and my neck with the other and the madman lets out an impatient snort. He wipes the bloody knife against the teens mouth and to my amusement the pig gags a little, turning his head away keeping his mouth firmly shut. 

The madman lets me go and I shove myself away, panting landing on my back. 

“I can’t believe it.” The madman mutters to himself. I lift myself slowly on my good arm and watch as the pig starts retching. I realize with pity there wasn’t much in his stomach except acid. Then the awe kicks as I realize that I was right. 

“He’s a vegetarian.” I smile and laugh a little unhinged then I wince in pain adding, “And you’re an asshole who cut me up and ruined a perfectly good hoodie for no reason.” I say firmly. 'My favorite hoodie.' I hated the madman before but no-one fucks with my hoodie.

The boar gasps a few times gagging and spitting then slumps down in a clean spot shuddering, wiping the blood off on the grass. I keep a close eye on the madman as he puts away the knife. He seems like the type of person to kill someone just because he was wrong.

The madman narrows his eyes at me as I slowly become more wobbly and confused. He takes a step back as I collapse. My arm was tingling before but now it’s starting to feel really bad. I try to stay up as the world spins faster and faster. He points to my arm, “Looks like you actually did get stabbed.”

Then I hear the boar’s voice panicking from somewhere far away saying, “Wait…I thought you said you weren’t?” The madman yanks at my hoodie and I panic. 

The feeling of my hoodie being removed and the venom reminds me of another time and I start struggling like my life depends on it. Sobs and begging stream from my mouth as the madman easily overpowers me and the hoodie is successfully removed.  I curl into a ball pleading him not to rape me only to stop when something slimey is smeared on my arm. I look at it in confusion. The pain fades quickly. The boar breathes a sigh of relief.

I close my eyes, spinning out of control. After a while I reopen them. The world is still spinning slightly but as I look at my arm and the angry red mark now covered in saliva I realize not only did I say pretty damning things while out of it. But now they both know. I look quickly at my uncle who is staring down at me calculatingly. I immediately reach for my hoodie. Tightening my grip on it I close my eyes to rest for a second.

I couldn’t help but glance at the boar as well, his eyes are wide with shock and pity. I look away. I hate that. I pull my hoodie over me too weak to put it on and hide underneath it. 

I'm stronger than this I force myself to breathe and focus on getting back up. I shudder. By now the madman is working on the circle. I struggle to stand and it really is a struggle. I fall back down so many times that I start to wonder if there’s permanent damage from the poison. I give up flopping back down into the grass and watch as the madman finishes the circle, starts a fire, and then approaches me. He nudges me with his foot and I don’t move. “You dead?”

“I wish.” I note that the boar reacts to that. He narrows his eyebrows and stares at the ground.

I start to get up and groan, ‘nope can’t.’

“Must be after effects,” the man notes and then walks away. He starts preparing a bedroll for himself. I lay on the ground as very slowly the dizziness fades but is replaced by burning pain in my arm. I touch it and wince.

“More saliva will help.” The boar says. He shies away as the madman glances at him. “It hurts right?” 

“I can’t move.” I say exhaustedly. 

“Ask your uncle to-”

The madman gets up and sighs crouching in front of me. “Looks like the pig feels bad for you.” He holds out a knife to the pig and I wince when I realize how he’d gotten the spit the first time. Despite being scared the teen leans forward coating the blade with his saliva. I shudder a bit as the madman then looks at it and wipes it on my arm. I hate that it feels better immediately. 

I groan, “Did you plan on seeing the effects of the poison in me all along or decide to go with it?”

“What do you think?” He asks me, still holding the knife.

“If he talks to you again at any point tonight, I’m cutting out your tongue.” He stands and taps the teen on the snout. “Then I’ll make you eat it.” 

The boar cowers.

I get my legs underneath me and glance at him. He has his eyes closed still trembling so I know he’s not sleeping. I move closer to him rebelliously. But part of my brain wonders if it’s because I may need to keep applying the antidote and don’t want to risk not being able to get it.

Still when I get close enough to him he tenses and slowly opens an eye. I see his human-like facade ripple for a second and then he’s just a cute, human, beat up boy. I start, looking away and then reprimand myself. I need to stop crushing on his fake face. It is one hundred percent made to deceive people into thinking he’s, well, not a monster. Not an ogre or a troll or whatever it was my uncle said. 

I scrunch up my face as I see a flash of his father. That was an ogre but him… He tilts his head at me a little and I wait until I see his real eyes. Despite being a similar color and pig-eyes they don’t instill the fear that his father’s eyes did. His are sweet and innocent. I know I’ve been staring and so I lower my head, still tired, closing my eyes. 

‘I still need to take care of him.’ I tell myself after a while. Slowly and painfully I get up limping to get some food and water for the teen. He tenses when I return and I understand it. I’m with the monster that showed up, killed most of his family, mutilated him and now continuously gets him hurt. ‘How dare I? Still I’m stupid and selfish. I'm glad he’s here and I’m not alone anymore. I want “human” interaction. At least he already hates me and knows what to expect right?’ 

He lets me clean his face and then I give him painkillers. I scooch as close as I can without actually touching him and he wrinkles his nose turning away.

I avoid his eyes in a mixture of shame and embarrassment. 'He knows a lot more about me than I was ever willing to share and I freaked out about him eating me.' I clench the granola bar in my hand.

I’m aching from the poison and have to constantly give that arm a break, using the other one to feed him and myself granola and breakfast bars and sips of water. He looks like he wants to say something but thankfully doesn’t. The madman is still angry and is probably waiting for an excuse to hurt one of us. I wince as the piglet starts crying and hurriedly get up to go to soothe her. Picking her up I feel a little better. She sniffs me with her cute little snout. 

Going over to her brother I sit down and I can see him visibly relax. 

I look down at my bloody hoodie then return the piglet to her carseat, this time near him so he can see her. I tuck in her blanket and smile a little. She's so cute. With all three of us feeding and changing her she seems happy and healthy. At least that’s one of us.

I seclude myself sitting against the truck as I pull my hoodie off and try to scrub the blood out of it. I mess with the slash in the cloth and sigh. I’ll try sewing it up later. 

I look up as the man pretending to be my uncle approaches with a needle and thread. I press against the car. He doesn’t even say anything, just looking coldly. I look down at the wound, it burns and it's still bleeding. 

I begrudgingly let the psycho approach to treat my wounds, annoying him when I refused to take my shirt off. I flinch as he disinfects it and then again as he prepares the needle. I lean away from it instinctively as he tries to start.

“It’ll hurt worse if you keep struggling like that.” He says hollowly as if he wasn’t performing surgery on me without any painkillers.

I scream as he sews it up, easily resisting me as I try to get him to stop, smacking my arm out of the way. He has me mostly pinned with his body using one hand to keep me from grabbing the needle making quick practiced movements. I turn away trembling, arm over my eyes as he observes his work, waiting until he leaves before turning back face red from crying. I take a shuddering breath pushing myself up off of the car, needing a minute before changing out of my bloody clothing. I tense as I look at my wet, stained hoodie glaring at the madman in hatred. 

I lie down in the back of the car slowly chest aching. After a while I take the time to lay out my blankets and pillow crying softly into it. 

I wake up to growling. I start and look around only to realize it was snoring. I stretch slowly, cold and grumpy at being woken up. I close my eyes again, animals and bugs make noises in the woods, branches breaking. The boar snoring. I need to use the bathroom. I sigh, getting up and then going around behind the car. I look for where the circle is. I hope I don’t wash it away. 

I relieve myself and then wonder how or when the boar is able to go. All he’s had is a tiny bit of water. I go back around the car exhausted. He’s still snoring away so I’ll let him sleep.  Crawling back into the backseat of the car I lock all the doors and pass out. The sounds of the forest are less loud and I actually think I like being out in the woods. As long as the barriers actually hold up.

I wake up with a gasp and strike out but I’m alone and not dead so that's a positive I guess. I realize my arm is fucked, I can barely use it at all. Growling in frustration I grab my now dry hoodie and wrestle with it, finally managing to get it on. I put my hands in my hoodie pockets to keep them warm. I draw my legs in close. 

I look out the window, eventually giving in to socializing because there’s a fire going.

Stumbling out of the car holding myself with one arm I shiver in the cold morning air. The madman is looking quite at home at the little campsite he has set up, brewing coffee. I hover near the fire warming up and then look over to the teen. He’s awake and has his head down but he’s a little too far from the fire, I see his poorly hidden trembles. I go to the madman and hold out my hand. He looks up at me and then smiles a little. 

“What? Use your words.”

‘Now you want me to speak.’ “Give me the key.”

“Why?” He says pulling it out of his pocket.

“So he can warm up, if he gets sick he’ll be a pain, remember?” I tilt my head and he looks at me emotionlessly for a while. I lean forward slowly and take it. “I’m going to take care of him.” I say and then nod to the baby. “So he can take care of her as well.”

The madman waves his hand looking like he’s lost interest. 

Quickly I go over to the boar. He doesn’t say anything as I unlock his hands and then neck. I go to move him and he looks at my immobile arm. I stiffen a bit but he only reaches to my other for support as he limps closer to the fire. I watch as he immediately looks over his sister. Warm and toasty making happy baby noises having apparently already been changed and fed.

I say nothing, staring at the fire. 

‘He looks really bad.’ I think to myself watching the human illusion fading weakly. He sits near me. He clears his throat.

“Last night when I pulled away it wasn’t because… I wasn’t mad. The smell of blood, it-” He cuts himself off and then shakes his head. “Are you okay, he…he didn’t hurt you just because I didn’t go feral and try to kill you right?”

I blink realizing he didn’t know why I was screaming last night. I show him the stitches with a wince, “I don’t know," I say honestly looking back at the frowning madman. He’s watching arms crossed and makes it very clear that he doesn’t approve of our growing bond. 

I grab the campfire coffee pot and struggle lifting a cup with the other hand. He looks at me worried and then grabs the cup as I almost drop it. 

“Is your arm okay?” He whispers. 

“It’s stiff and doesn’t want to work.” I rub it wincing when I go over the part that got stabbed. I notice the guilt in his eyes and quickly fill the cup before putting the coffee back over the fire. 

I go to say something but stiffen as the madman leans down between us, putting a bowl in my hand. I look up a little unsure. He nods at the bowl and I look at it. Some sort of oatmeal but with fruit. I thank him and he nods glaring at the pig as he walks away. I turn and hesitate for a while blowing on the oatmeal before taking a few bites. The man sees and I look away because it’s actually really good and I feel like I can’t show that I’m enjoying it. 

He turns back to the table with his equipment and then when he glances back he notices his nephew feeding the pig a little he frowns. Especially as they share the coffee and a brief smile flashes between them as they react in disgust. They both hate it but keep drinking because well it’s hot and the morning is cold.

Belly full I lean back relaxed and then to my horror the teen lays down as well putting his head on my lap. Right above my knee. 

I stay tense waiting to see if he did anything else. He seems to notice and slides his head onto the ground silently. I relax and then immediately feel bad. ‘He initiated contact first and I rejected it.’ I think about it for a long time. Weighing what would happen if I reach for his bristles. He sees and shivers, “They’re sensitive.” He warns. 

‘Sensitive but not off limits so I am able to touch them.’ I start by smoothing them down flat, I just have to be careful not to prick myself on the ends. His fur is coarse and not pleasant yet I feel my heart pound excitedly. I notice his real ear flick against my hand. ‘It’s so soft.’ I rub it gently and say nothing and he looks far away like he does whenever I’m quiet for a long time. Which is most times. His head tilt's slightly into the touch.