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In some cultures, what I do is considered normal.
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((Aislyn McCreery continued from Random Spawns are a Bitch))

Aislyn kept her eyes trained on the ground in front of her, carefully placing her steps to avoid stepping on any sharp objects. She had been brooding since leaving the swamp and fully intended on continuing her dark mood today. Normally, a decent night’s sleep and a refreshing swim would help her put problems into perspective but today she had to do without both.

She could hear Felicia huffing and blowing up head of her. ‘She sounds like some kind of animal in distress,’ she fumed silently as she brought up the rear. ‘At least I’m in back and not counting on her to watch my back. If a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, then my chain is in need of serious reforging.’

As she caught up with the other girls, she could only stare incredulously as the much smaller girl did her very best Julie Andrews imitation while Felicia found a spot for herself on the floor. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Neither one seemed to be concerned with making sure the area was secure. Nobody was watching for threats.

‘I guess you don’t have to worry if none of your stuff gets stolen and crazed bitches don’t hop out and threaten you.’

Aislyn’s eyes darted around the clearing as she wished for the millionth time that she’d gotten a better weapon assignment than that damned Rubik’s Cube. ‘If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.’ She could hear her father’s teasing tone in her head as the familiar admonishment came to mind. ‘Nobody likes a whiner or dead weight, Cess. Adapt. Improvise.’

“Overcome,” she said aloud, finishing the mantra. Aislyn began to scour the ground for a decent fist-sized rock. “Hey, do either of you see a sturdy looking tree limb or stick laying about? “
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The Hills Are Alive · The Mountain