Chapter 8

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"I-N-S-E-N-T-I-E-N-T," I spell out and receive strange looks around the fire.

"In-sen--tee-ent," the woman next to me says.

"No. It's pronounced in-sen-shee-ent," I say and even that has me wondering now.

"What do you think it means?" I'm asked by one of my neighbors.

"Uncaring or unfeeling," I answer knowingly, yet there's this small seed of doubt in my mind.

"Could you use it in a sentence?" someone else asks.

"Krit says he's insentient, but he is full of shit," I say.

"What is this? A spelling bee? Great sentence. Super helpful," I hear Woody's distinctive voice grumble.

"He says that's not what it means. And he's wrong," I say as I stare at the fire before me. "Or at least, I think he's wrong. He said I'm insentient also and that's some kind of clue."

"You're not uncaring or unfeeling, Liz," Ava asserts. "Maybe he's just trying to throw you off. You said he seems to enjoy doing that to you. What else did he say when he visited?"

"Well," I think for a moment, "He said that I'm screwing with the balance around here, we need to stay away from each other, my presence is disturbing, umm...I'm a bunny that bites people," I finish quickly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I hear a male voice ask.

"I'm sweet and soft and when you pet me, I bite" I say and watch the reactions around the fire. Confusion seems to be the most prevalent expression.

"Do you let him pet you? I don't get it," Woody says.

"No, I don't let him pet me," I answer in a sharp tone.

"Maybe he's losing his mind," someone else offers and I don't think that's it.

He seemed conflicted, telling me we have to stay away from each other and the next minute, trapping me against a wall. He even called me 'Darling', I swear I heard that. Maybe Ava's right, maybe this is his way of messing with my head.

If it is, he's really good at it, because I am so completely befuddled.

He's been gone for quite a while now, his absence blanketing the land in relative darkness for what seems like hours.

I laid down in my bed after he left, thoroughly expecting to succumb to sleep immediately and all I did was stare with wide open eyes, my mind playing back every word of our conversation.

After the failed attempt at sleep, I navigated my way through the house out to the illuminated clearing to find some of my neighbors starting a fire in my fire pit. While we sat, a few others joined and then more until the area was three-deep around the circle.

Gus brought some beer to share, someone else was passing around some kind of jerky that was made from tree bark, and a small basket of berries just went by, provided by a woman I haven't encountered before.

I am once again amazed not only that they are able to work with what this land provides but at the relatively quick turnaround from hostile to friendly. The sheer number of new faces I see around me only demonstrates how huge this place is and makes me realize that I have only seen a small portion of it. According to some of the newcomers, there are small paths leading from the main path and branching out far beyond what I've viewed.

I'm sitting and staring at the fire before me, listening to the chit chat surrounding me, knowing I should be listening closely for clues in their conversations, yet my mind is still absorbed by him.

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