The rest of the day passes by slowly, and all I do is lay on the cot and read, listening to music. Vaughn only comes back once and a while, usually to warm up by the fire that I keep going. He never says anything, so I don't, either. He even ignores whatever song is on when he walks in each time.

The next time I glance at the clock on my tablet, the time reads 9:17 pm.

Before I can make any move to get up, however, Vaughn swiftly walks through the front door and over to his cedar chest, taking out some clothes and a towel. He doesn't even glance in my direction as I watch him turn around and walk outside.

I would love a nice shower right about now.

Getting up, I pour some water from the kitchen faucet into a mug.

Because I only have four water bottles left in my bag, I figured I should start saving them. I can just drink the snow water as Vaughn does, it's not that big of a deal.

I go back to reading for a while, and before I know it, Vaughn's returned, hair damp and slicked back, a few water droplets dripping down his face.

He's wearing a simple black hoodie and black sweatpants, and I don't know why it is, but it's odd seeing him in casual, comfy-looking clothes. I suppose it's because these past couple of days I haven't seen him in anything but jeans and a warm black jacket.

He glances at me for a split second after tossing a handful of clothes in a wooden basket on the floor. "If you want to go use the sauna, you can."

I nod, drinking some water first. "Okay, thanks."

Nothing else is said as I walk to grab my duffle bag, and he puts down the futon, laying on it.

So...I guess that means he's sleeping in here tonight. I wonder what made him choose to trust me more. Did he honestly think I was a cold-blooded killer at first?

Part of me understands how he can think like that, another part of me is very annoyed at him for it. I'm the teenage girl here; he's the 6'6" giant of a man. He could be the murderer for all I know. How does he expect me to trust him and be able to sleep in the same room as him when I don't even know his favorite color?

At least when we were in the cave, Moose was nearby, not that I knew at the time, but still. And for some reason, knowing Moose is around makes me feel safer.

Speaking of the dog, anyway.

As I stand up and turn around, I ask: "What about Moo-Moo?"

Vaughn, who lays with his eyes closed and hands intertwined beneath his head, sighs through his nose at the nickname. "What about him?"

"Why don't you let him sleep in here?"

"Because I don't want the whole room to smell."

"But it's cold out."

"He's a Newfoundland. He's practically all fur."

He has a point.

I try something else. "What if a wolf pack shows up or something?"

"I'll hear them before they do anything."

"Another mountain lion?"

"Unlikely."

"A bear?"

"Even more unlikely."

"A...moose...?" I try.

He doesn't even reply.

So, feeling defeated, I turn around and start heading towards the door, about to walk out when I hear, "Don't you want a towel?"

Oh.

I swivel around on my heel to find him watching me, with one eyebrow slightly raised.

"Yeah, that'd be good."

He nods, getting up and grabbing me a folded towel from the cedar chest.

Walking over to him, I take the soft gray cloth in my hands. "Thanks."

He nods once, then immediately goes to lay back down on the futon.

And with that, I hurriedly make my way to the door and slip on my boots, not bothering to lace them up.

Once I step outside, I'm hit with the icy chill, forcing me to shudder.

I can see maybe a few yards ahead thanks to the moonlight, but that's it.

Moose lays on the front porch to my left, looking up at me with soft, sad eyes. After crouching down to pet him for a second, I make my way through the snow and towards the sauna.

I drop my bag on the ground next to the door, grabbing only my towel, my second to the last pair of clean clothes, and typical shower items, including the toothbrush.

I'm greeted with a darker, hot enclosed space with two benches to sit on. There's a soft, warm glow emitting from the furnace, and immediately I feel stress within me begin to melt away because of how relaxing it is. There are a couple of buckets placed to the side of the fire, and after placing down the things I brought inside, I pick them up.

Stepping once more back out into the cold darkness, I scoop the buckets down and fill them up with snow.

Inside, I place them by the fire so I can have water to use.

I mean, yes, it's not a hot shower. However, I've come across a few random articles about the benefits of saunas. Granted, I didn't actually read them, but I'm assuming there are at least two or three advantages.

I take my time, enjoying the solitude and silence.

It really is therapeutic in here for me.

I love it.

By the time I get back to the cabin, I feel squeaky clean, exhausted and ready to sleep. After I say goodnight to the dog, I step inside, barely being able to see anything in the low light given from the fireplace.

I set my things down back to their usual spot, noticing that Vaughn seems to be asleep. He lays on his left side, hair tousled slightly around his head and pillow as he breathes steadily.

He looks peaceful.

I make my way over to get some water, then, I try to quietly put in one last chunk of wood for the night. However, the door is incredibly loud and squeaky, and I cringe all throughout the process.

As I move back the covers to the cot to lay down, I see that the man nearby on the futon hasn't moved an inch.

That annoying woodstove didn't wake him up, huh?

It must be nice being a deep sleeper; I get woken up by even the slightest thing.

Closing my eyes, I try to calm my thoughts of what tomorrow, Tuesday, will bring.

I mean, what's there to do out here, really? Besides read, get wood to burn, cook meat, hunt, and take saunas?

And honestly, I'm okay with that. I love living lowkey and not doing much. However, I don't think I can actually handle it quite yet. Not until everything is resolved.

So, turning on my left side to face the wall, I shut out my thoughts and focus on sleeping.

Initially, I'm woken up to the sound of the woodstove opening and fuel for the fire being added.

When I open my eyes, however, it's still dark out, and I'm still tired, so I choose to just roll over to try and fall asleep again.

However, when the front door opens and closes a couple of times, and cold air rushes in on my face, and I hear pots and pans loud and clear, I know that it's time to get up.

He's trying to be loud and annoying on purpose.

I wonder what he has planned for today.

I'm not going to ask him yet, though, as I'm not really in the mood to talk in the morning.

Sitting up, the first thing I do is sleepily reach for my hairbrush in my bag.

After I've brushed all the gnarly knots out, I'm a little bit more awake than I was before, and I can keep my eyes a little bit more open.

I'm still not fully functioning, though. Just sitting here on the cot with my head in my hands, trying to gain enough energy to actually stand up.

I barely hear the footsteps before my hands are yanked from my face, and a plate is shoved into them.

"Eat, then I'll show you how I do laundry here."

"Mmkay, thanks," I mumble tiredly, still not even looking at him as I pick up a piece of venison and slowly start to nibble at it.

When I'm done, I'm much more awake. I'm still slow, yes, but more awake.

Vaughn comes and takes the plate from me, and I take the time to check the time.

8:59 am.

It's still dark out, and I'm guessing sunrise isn't for another 15 minutes or so.

Vaughn finishes washing the dishes and steps outside for reasons unknown, so I take the time to brush my teeth because venison has an unfortunate habit of getting stuck in between them.

When I'm done, I decide to put on my winter clothes and step outside, not really knowing where I'm going or what I'm doing.

All I know is that the cold air really wakes me up.

When Moose comes racing over to me, I smile, crouching down to pet him as he licks at my hand.

He's such a cute dog.

I wonder how old he is.

Why haven't I asked Vaughn that yet?

When he appears carrying a bucket, I do just that.

"Eight," he tells me.

"And how long do Newfies live for?"

He takes a deep breath, "Eight to ten years, usually."

My lips part slightly as my eyes move to stare down at the sweet dog sitting at my feet. The gentle giant sighs as he leans against my leg, content as I rub his silky brown ears.

I look up at Vaughn, and I don't know why I am, but I'm surprised to see he looks quite sad at the moment as he stares down at Moose.

Yes, it's his dog, but he's not really apparent with his emotions and kind of hard to read, so...

But then, Vaughn's eyes meet mine, and the gloomy look seems to instantly fade from them as he turns and starts walking to the sauna.

So, reaching down, I hug Moose, and then I follow after him.

Hours later, I've been given the basic run-through of how he does things. Laundry, dishes, used water, clean water, where he stores his food and why, where Moose's food is, things like that.

And now that I know what I know, I'm sure I'll be expected to help out more with everything. And, that's completely reasonable.

But he shouldn't expect me to cook.

Namely, because I can't, and I'll probably end up accidentally poisoning us or something.

When I tell him that, I don't expect a reply. So, I'm pleasantly surprised when I hear his low voice answer nonchalantly with, "You don't have to cook."

I'm sitting near the woodstove, but when he says that, I look up from the burning flames. He's laying with his hands behind his head on the futon, much like he did yesterday.

Smiling slightly, I say, "Oh...thanks."

"But only because I'd rather not die."

The small smile drops from my face, "Oh...okay."

We fall back into silence once again until I start thinking about what I'll do on Friday. How will I get people to talk?

Better yet, how will I even get to the village? Do I have to walk the entire way there?

So, I voice my questions to the guy on the futon.

"It's about 9 miles to town from here," he answers. "And, you should be able to walk 3 miles per hour."

I just silently nod in reply while cringing at the idea of walking for 3 hours...terrible.

But, then again, I guess it would help to prepare me for living off the grid, so there's that.

The silence in the room returns, and I can't help but feel awkward and...weird.

And, I can't even imagine how Vaughn feels about this, too.

I mean, I've literally intruded into a total stranger's home and made my way into his life so suddenly and without any warning or heads up at all.

I feel bad; this is all just...so surreal.

"How long has it been since you ran away?" He asks me out of nowhere.

"...Tomorrow will have been exactly one week since the fire," I answer, folding my hands on my lap.

"Then, I'm sure people are definitely looking for you now."

I nod, "Do you think I'll be recognized all the way up here, though? It's literally the middle of nowhere."

His eyes move from the ceiling over to me. Casually, he says, "I think the bounty hunter is your biggest threat."

"Roan?" Nodding, I agree, "Yeah, I'll just have to hope he's done visiting his father by the time I get there."

"However..." Vaughn pauses.

"What?"

"Roan could be a good way to get to Richard if you still want to speak with him."

I think for a second, surprised he's even advising me at all. "Yeah, but is it really worth the risk of getting brought in?"

No reply.

Oh.

"You probably want me to risk it, so I get brought in, don't you? That way, you no longer have to put up with me."

He glances at me, raising an eyebrow, but doesn't say a word.

I sigh, inaudibly. Why does the guy have to be so hard to understand?

We stay sitting in silence until he randomly stands up, puts his boots on, and walks out, swinging on his coat in the process.

"Well, okay then," I mutter to myself when the door shuts.

Realizing he probably wants alone time, I feel bad knowing he had to leave his own home cause I'm here.

I could've totally went for a walk in the woods or something, instead.

Sighing, I just put a chunk of wood in the furnace and lay down on the cot, lost in thought.

I wish he would warm up to me eventually, but at the same time, I don't want to be annoying and try to force him to do so.

And, I don't know how to get him to warm up without doing those things, so I'm kind of confused about what to do.

I guess...I should just keep doing what I'm doing?

Whatever it is, it seems to be working so far. I've gone from sleeping in a cave to being trusted enough to stay in the cabin. It's gone from escorting me to the outhouse to letting me go wherever on my own. Sometimes we even talk, too.

So, with that in mind, maybe it can only improve from here.

Who knows?