I don’t know who this is, or where she fits. But I couldn’t write anything else, so I came here to write a throwaway. But I like her. So I guess I’ll keep her.
Cara huddled in a ball and made it all go away. She knew better than the other children, she didn’t imagine food. That only made things worse. Cara imagined adventure, danger, the toe-curling excitement that made her appetite go away.
There had been a climber in the market last week, talking about trying the Death Face. Cara had cowered in delicious terror, but now she imagined she had offered to guide him.
The first few days had been easy. She could handle the hiking, when the reward was three whole meals–don’t think about food!
Now she stood at the foot of the path, the one made by morbid curiosity-seekers and the occasional obsessed climber. Her employer stood staring up at the Death Face, grinning. Cara shivered and stepped closer to the tall dark man who had come to be a friend. He was kind, and she didn’t want him hurt. But the Death Face wasn’t looking at him. They said the cliff chose its victims, before they even set foot on it…
“Well, Cara,” he said in that gentle, lilting voice, “Don’t you think–“
“Hey, Rat!” Cara’s bunk jolted, jerking her back to her gnawing stomach. “Got food, Rat?”
Damn. Pritch. And friends. Cara stayed in her protective ball. It hurt less that way. “No,” she answered, and wondered why she bothered. They wouldn’t leave till they’d made sure.
I’ll probably continue it. Eventually. Any guesses how I’m feeling today? And no, I’m not hungry.