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Deamon
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Humans...
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Cameron tilted her head from side-to-side, considering what Mel had said. The cabin wasn't the worst place in the world to wake up, she had even had the pleasure of waking up on a bed. Granted it was old and smelled of moss and mold, but it was still a bed. She waved off Mel's offer.

"No I'll get myself up." She said as she swung her legs over the side, taking particular care to ensure she didn't put her sneakers in the pile of sick she had made. "Thanks for the offer." Cameron took another sip from her water once she was on her feet before closing the bottle and tossing it back into her pack. G048 was stenciled onto the side. Cameron pulled a face at the idea of being made a number. It was another way the terrorists tried to convince to take part in their game. Give them numbers.

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, Cameron took the pickaxe in her right hand. As she did so she noticed her tattoo, it was still new, so the colours appeared vibrant, almost alive. There was pang of remorse as she realised that she would never get to be on stage again, never get a chance to perform or paint herself. It also reminded her of the one good part of the situation. B.B. and Brady were still alive, they hadn't been going the same day the rest of them had been. They were safe. She smiled.

The pickaxe was heavier than expected but it wasn't unwieldy, it was almost reassuring for Cameron to know that she had the potential to use her weapon. She wasn't completely helpless.

"Alright." She said with a small sigh, her smile sliding off her face as she turned her attention back to Mel and their current situation. "Let's get out of here."
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Nature's Predators · The Hunting Cabin