Malia, while she didn’t notice his pained sighs and gasps, did wake up on her own time. As she fluttered her green eyes open, she flickered then around the shack. It took her a moment to recall where she was, but after she remembered the previous night, she noticed that Carson wasn’t around. She figured he had just started his day, Striders always had something to do, and she sat up, carefully pushing herself out of bed. She stopped, however, when she felt the blanket. She smiled slightly, pushing that aside and standing. She looked around, but her eyes stopped when they fell on the binder on top of his desk. It was open. She glanced outside the small makeshift ‘window’ before she took a seat st the desk, running her fingers over the binder. She wasn’t sure what it was, but one of the pages was loose. She flipped to it, her eyes falling on the drawing of a all too familiar face. ‘Huntsmen’.<br/><br/>She furrowed her eyebrows, her hard eyes scanning the page, taking in every word written about them. She kept flipping through the pages, curious as to what this book was, but then her heart stopped. The battered page held her name, and her eyes cautiously scanned down.<br/><i>Malia. Brunette. Clever. Bright. Sister to Oliver. Distracts him. Friendly, but Stubborn. Getting in the way. Possible need to be taken care of— See huntsmen. <br/>
</i><br/>She stood up quickly, her green eyes wide. The thing was, as far as she was concerned this was Carson’s binder. She thought that it belonged to him, that he was the one writing all this down. Was he really...? No, no way. But...it made sense. Maybe she truly doesn’t have anyone here. She needed to leave, and now. She wasn’t going to sit around to see if those haunting words were true. However, she made the mistake of shutting the binder, when Carson had left it open.<br/><br/>She quickly grabbed her jacket, tugging on her shoes before making her way to the door. Her stomach dropped when Carson walked in, seemingly flustered, at the same time. She froze, the gears in her mind turning. “I uh, I’m going to go try and get my stuff from my house.” She offered a smile, not sure if it was convincing.<i>Going to get my stuff and not coming back, more like it. </i><br/>She pushed her way past him, keeping calm and maintained as she walked down the street, the gravel crunching under her boots. She needed to get out of here.