Such occurrences seemed very ordinary to her.

"Outside is very dangerous," the boy mused for a moment before speaking again.

In her backpack was a bow and arrow she had made herself, which she now slung on her back.

The bow and arrow looked big, taller than her.

"I’ve been out here many times by myself."

The boy still didn’t quite understand, "Why do you hunt alone?"

"For food," the little girl’s soft voice, innocent sounding, "I also want to decorate my house nice and pretty."

To eat enough, to survive, that was why she hunted.

A simple truth.

"But you are still a child," the boy frowned.

Hanna was putting on warm boots and, turning to look at the boy, said, "You are also just a child."

Her cheeks were puffed out, looking somewhat upset.

"I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect..."

Didn’t expect that there were others like him.

"I’m going out now."

Hanna stood up and stomped her feet in place.

The boots were newly acquired, too big, not fitting well.

She was a little annoyed.

"You stay here and don’t run off," she instructed earnestly, "if Maiden Snail comes by, tell her thank you for me, and tell her I want to have baked sweet potatoes for dinner."

The boy’s lips pursed slightly, and after a moment’s thought, he said, "Okay."

Hanna happily hopped out, humming a tune.

Like a child.

No, she was a child.

That’s what the boy thought.

She was a contradictory person, with the innocence of a child, believing in Maiden Snail, yet also striving to survive.

The sharp weapons, the bow and arrow that could easily take lives, seemed more like toys in her hands.

Jarring, yet somehow natural.

The boy leaned against the wall, turned his head, and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the bedding and pillows that Hanna had arranged to look like a snowman.

After all, he had nowhere else to go.

...

At noon, the harsh sun drove away the cold wind.

The temperature in the north had risen.

Many mutated beasts also took this time to emerge.

The boy stayed alone in Hanna’s "secret base," tidying everything when he was idle, even surrounding the extinguished fire with bricks to make a crude stove.

He remembered, the little girl had said before leaving that she wanted to eat baked sweet potatoes.

He would make the baked sweet potatoes as the "Maiden Snail."

Sweet potatoes were not common in the northern district, especially in the refugee areas where many struggled to fill their stomachs with roots and leaves.

When truly desperate, soil and stones became food.

And worse yet, some resorted to cannibalism.

The boy had seen such things before.

He knew Brille, and it was much like the places he had once been.

Hanna’s backpack contained sweet potatoes.

Two of them.

The very small kind.

The boy thought it over and decided to go out and search on his own.

He was also worried about the little girl’s safety.

...

Hanna returned just as the sun was setting.

Her hunt had been quite successful today.

She had caught a mutated split-tooth dire wolf.

Split-tooth dire wolves were social creatures, usually moving in packs.

Hanna didn’t like them.

Because they always cooperated to gang up on her.

But today she had encountered a solitary one, so it hadn’t taken much effort to take it down.

With the split-tooth dire wolf being so large, Hanna couldn’t bring it back to her secret base, so she hid it in her second secret base.