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Cora follows the smell of meat to a clearing at the edge of the forest.
She doesn't know how long it's been since she last ate. Her stomach is hollow, gnawing at her with vicious, sharp teeth; all her attempts to catch game have been thwarted by her own weakness. Each step is more and more of a struggle and it takes every ounce of determination that she has to keep her nose tilted towards the air, following the scent.
It's the first time in hours (days? a week?) that she can smell something that isn't gasoline and soot.
She doesn't bother trying to sneak into the clearing; she's long past that point. She stumbles into the light, eyes fixed on the spit of meat dangling over a small campfire. The sight of the flames makes her skin crawl, but she's so hungry.
She dives across the clearing, fingers already aching to tear the tender meat off the bones, but she's stopped by a strong arm slamming into her chest. If she were in peak condition, it would be nothing to her, but now, it's enough of a deterrent that she stops and snarls, showing all of her undoubtedly filthy teeth.
"Whoa there." The person that the arm is connected to looks to be about her age; he's blonde, with short hair, well-groomed, dressed in clean clothes. He's grinning at her, showing perfectly straight, white teeth that she wants to knock from his mouth.
If she tried hard enough, she thinks that she could rip his arm off.
"Are you hungry?" This voice comes from behind her and Cora whips her head around. There's a girl standing just at the edge of the firelight, a long-bladed knife glinting in her hand. She's just as clean as the boy; her long, shiny black hair dangles down over her shoulders and there's a strip of clean brown skin showing between the hem of her crop top and her dark jeans.
Cora nods. Her claws dig into her legs as the smell of meat grows stronger. Thankfully, before she has to wait much longer, the girl crosses the clearing and uses the knife to cut a long strip of well-done meat from the top of the carcass. It looks like it's deer, but frankly, Cora wouldn't care if it was porcupine or squirrel.
She's just so hungry.
She devours the first strip of meat, and the next, and the next, not wincing when it burns her fingertips or scorches down her throat. She eats until her stomach is full and her body feels solid again, feels like something stronger than a mere wisp. Once she's done, she backs away from the fire, until she can just barely feel the heat coming from it.
"What's your name?"
It's the girl that asks. She's still holding the knife, absently twirling it between her fingers in a way that Cora is intrinsically wary of. Still, they fed her; it's the least she can do to answer.
Besides, she feels like she could take them now, if she had to.
"Cora," she grunts, tucking her filthy hands into her lap. "You?"
"Violet. That's Garrett," she says, nodding her head at the boy, who is slicing more meat off the carcass and putting it in a bag. He looks up and smiles, but after only a second, his blinding grin morphs into something more restrained, more thoughtful.
"Wait," he says quietly. "I know you. You're a Hale, aren't you?"
Cora's hackles immediately go up and her claws dig into the dirt underneath her. She nods warily, ready to spring across the clearing and rip out the boy's throat if he had anything to do with the disaster that tore her entire family away from her.
"How'd you know that?" she asks, her voice rough and unfamiliar after so many days of silence.
"We saw the flames. Read the paper last time we were in town," Garrett says. "They said the entire family died."
Phantom screams fill Cora's ears and she digs her claws into her palms until blood drips from between her fingers.
"You're an orphan now," Violet says, crossing the clearing and dropping down until she's crouching just in front of Cora. Slowly, she reaches one hand out and rests it on Cora's knee, squeezing gently.
"You're like us," she says quietly. Her eyes are hard as flint and her mouth is set in a firm, straight line.
"Welcome to the family," Garrett says, eyes and mouth mirroring Violet's.
That's all the evidence Cora needs to know that Violet and Garrett really are like her, that they've seen the same kind of meaningless violence that she has.
She wonders if they hunted down the people who wronged them and tore them to pieces.
She wonders if they'd help her do the same.