Thread: Runaway Slave (PoisonIvy and Bella)

Caitlin Walker sighed as she trekked through the woods, guitar strapped to her back and a bit of money in her pocket. She'd been in this town for nearly two weeks and the bar owner had promised her that if she showed up to play every Saturday night she would get a hot meal and twenty bucks. It was hardly enough to live on but twenty bucks could buy bread and peanut butter from the local five and dime and a few bags of chips to get her through to the next Saturday. SOmething she would do tomorrow. Humming softly to herself, the young beauty made her way to the abandoned cabin in the wood about two miles from the highway. It was a good shelter, hidden from everyone and allowed her to have a roof over her head, no matter how old. It was also close to a creek and so she had been able to wash up earlier in the day and smell like flower scented soap rather than dirt and grime. Being in Texas was a far cry from Georgia and hopefully far enough away from the foster system that honestly didn't give a shit about her. She was better off on her own and not close to grubby old men wanting to cop feels or trying to molest her. Slipping into the abandoned house, she lit a match, quickly lighting the oil lamp she'd found that was still in working order before taking the guitar off her back, sitting it by the door. Home sweet home, she thought wryly before biting her bottom lip. In one corner of the front room was a pile of blankets and a pillow and a backpack full of her few belongings including two pair of jeans and a few shirts. Toothbrush, toothpaste that she was running low on and a half bar of soap were all the possession she had but hoped that she could find a local job soon that gave her more than twenty bucks to live on during the week. Beggars couldn't be choosers unfortunately. Sinking down on her pile of blankets, her fingers combed through her hair and she reached in the worn backpack, finding the single most important possession she had. It was a worn and crinkled picture with her parents and herself as a baby. The only picture she had of the people who had loved her until dying in a car crash when she'd been just two years old. She could only imagine how much love those two happy people in the picture had for her and wished that they hadn't left her alone in the world to fend for herself. It was hard being so strong all of the time. Brushing back a strand of straight as a board diry blonde hair, her blue eyes closed for a moment and then she tucked the picture carefully back in the bag before laying down on her pallet. She was certainly a lovely girl, slender except for her c-cup breasts and was a healthy size four. At barely five feet four inches tall, she was short but had long legs for her height and dainty feet. In fact, almost everything about her was fragile but her mental state was one of steel. After years growing up in the system, the sixteen year old knew how to take care of herself and survive, which was hardly how any other kid her age might be. Turning onto her side, Cait closed her eyes. It was late and dark and she was exhausted. She had nearly managed to fall asleep when the sounds of something moving outside caused her to sit up. Shuffling of leaves, a cracked twig. It was probably a wild animal but one could never be to certain. The dim glow of the lamp cast shadows on the decrepit walls and glancing out of the window, she didn't see anything. Sinking back down, she mused that it must be a figment of her imagination and then slowly laid back down, ready for sleep.