The water in the washtrough was murky and lukewarm by the time Kei got to it. She tested it with her elbow and decided that it wasn't going to get her any cleaner than rolling about in the puddles outside. The boy behind her splashed his arms into the filmy water and looked as if he immediately regretted it. Kei hid a smirk, wiping her lips on her sleeve.<br/><br/>"Did you get over to the board today?" asked her bunkmate, a scruffy girl with hair that stuck out from her head in bristly clumps. Kei still couldn't remember her name for the life of her. "I wonder who's going to get called."<br/><br/>Kei grunted in response. She had fallen out of the habit of checking the board every day ages ago. Either she was going to be on the board or she wasn't. Most of those still here were concerned for their friends or bunkmates, and if any of their names would end up on the warn black surface. Kei did not keep friends. She had been in Wayside House for too long to fall for that kind of emotion anymore.<br/><br/>"It's raining again," said Kei's bunkmate, scratching her arm absently in the nervous way that newcomers did. "What are you going to do today, Kei?"<br/><br/>Kei glanced to the archway that lead to the grounds outside where a half-hearted drizzle was falling. "Work," Kei replied, brushing her dirty, gray-blonde hair from her face. "Hunt maybe."<br/><br/>"You're always working," said the bunkmate disapprovingly. "You should take a day off, rest a little."<br/><br/>"No thanks," Kei shrugged, pulling her thin coat around her. The others, none of them older than seventeen, were crowding at the board, pointing and whispering, exchanging glances that hide terror behind a paper-thin mask of weariness. It was a morning ritual that Kei had grown tired of. She pulled threadbare wraps from her pocket and set about binding her palms and forearms against the elements. The rain grew more sincere, falling harder on the muddy grey landscape.<br/><br/>"I should have never taken that purse," bunkmate muttered. "I should never have done anything to be sent here."<br/><br/>Kei regarded the teenager. "Yet here you are," she said indifferently. "Make it work."<br/><br/>She pulled her collar against her neck and started out into the rain, leaving the girl to the crowd of younglings that were subtly panicking.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>Wayside House, home for criminally-minded orphan youth, was less a "house" and more an estate. The offenders were free to roam the grounds because there was no way to escape, unless they wanted to attempt climbing the treacherous mountains that surrounded the small valley or attempt to sneak past the only outgoing path that was guarded by a single, sleepless man that looked more like a demon than a mortal. Kei had been "locked up" here for four years, since she was thirteen. In another year she would be free to leave and rejoin the outside world. That was, of course, assuming that her name didn't end up on the board.<br/><br/>She didn't think about the possibility much. If she let herself think about the fact that she might not ever leave it would drive her mad as it had done many others. Instead she focused on getting enough food for the day, making and maintaining tools, keeping herself as secure and comfortable as possible in the isolated valley.<br/><br/>She hiked up the small incline to an outcropping of rocks where she had built a small second home over the years. Her tools were stashed here--a knife she'd been given by her first bunkmate, a spear and a walking stick that she had carved, an assortment of crude stone implements. A hammock-like bed was slung in the corner, though Kei could only sleep there periodically due to the occasional role-call. She pushed open the plank door and gathered a few items, heading back out into the rain to look for game.