Jael had been spending a lot of time out here lately. Well, same amount as usual, though her project was nearing an end. She was worried that there were still snakes, lingering and wanting after her decoy birds. The coop had to be perfectly secure before she even began to consider the logistics of getting chickens. After all, why go through all the trouble of getting them out here, if they were just going to end up eaten? They weren't for eating. No, they were for carefully maintaining, and in turn they would have eggs and improved soil. Rabbits would be easier, and they could come later. She'd start with the hardest things. The grossest pool. The hardest setup, or at least, the hardest setup that could be done in the shortest amount of time. Don't ask what's cooking in her head.
And cook she did. Sitting carefully up on her perch, she had lots of time to think. Lots of time to begin working away at things to trade, as well. The snake carcass was still yielding Jael with more to do, more to fidget with. From each of the snake's ribs, a carefully sharpened, curved needle. The sort wildly sought after by healers, as the curved nature lent itself beautifully to closing wounds and causing as little additional damage as possible. It was tedious work, but then, so was predator watch. She likes tedious. The girl's mind ran wild as she worked, as she watched, as she waited. Focused very carefully and intentionally on thoughts of the pool, of the stock, and not of the vicious wound that she'd closed with a needle just like the one she made now. The precise stitches of a crafter, but not the knowledge of a healer. He hadn't died. That was enough.
Modesty appeared, the first time Jael had seen her since the incident, shattering the peaceful day around her. Swinging from her jaws... Jael's stomach churned. A pregnant coyote, hell, the thing was probably bigger than the wolfdog. It was still alive, but it wouldn't be for long. The message hung between them, and Jael curled up more tightly on her perch. Licking her lips, head tucked low. Fairly certain she was going to be sick right here, right now.
Carnage spreading out before her, it's all she can do to focus on her breathing. Looking on in horror. Something told her Modesty would react poorly if she'd squeezed her eyes shut, though she longed to. It still wouldn't save her from the sounds. Perhaps they were worst of all. The squelching, the cries of the pups, the manic chuckle that crackled through the space between them. The gagging and retching... and the fear. Truth be told, the cold grip of that fear on Jael's stomach, on her ribcage, it's Modesty's hand. Was it all the lady of the house wanted?
Trying not to allow her voice to tremble as she replied, Jael spoke. "I've never been able to put stock in much of anything." Trying not to sound scared. It wasn't working. This isn't like with her last dumb run-in, the parts of Modesty that she can see and the parts Jael can only guess about don't paint the picture of a bully. They paint the picture of a woman scorned. A woman Jael herself has scorned. Fuck.
Professor
