Re: Derek's place: Derek/Marta
Taking time to think about Derek's questions meant that Marta was able to slow down enough to find the right words and the ability to say them, even though the topics were difficult. She watched the other woman shift her position, making herself comfortable on Marta's bed and lounging on her back. But for as much self-reflection she'd done in the past months as part of her recovery and her struggle to be and stay sober, she was still without answers so much of the time. The shake of her head was a little helpless as she sighed out softly. "I don't know." And wasn't that part of the problem? She'd never really figured out who she was, and now she was 20-some years into her life and still without a clue of how to live it. And for one of the first times in a long time, it started to frustrate her instead of just make her feel helpless. "I don't know," she repeated, her frustration leaking out into the words.
As Derek flexed her feet, Marta watched slim ankles and graceful feet (not quite certain how feet could be graceful, but it seemed the right word in the moment), letting the conduit from her mind to her mouth open a little more freely as more words slipped out. "I don't think there's always been something me." That seemed pathetic, the instant she said it, and the beginnings of a self-directed scowl formed between her brows. "It's fucked up." That came out with more intensity. "Nothing to build on."
Hunting continued to be a distracting topic, though. Marta'd never thought about it being a vital skill - especially not for herself. Derek was correct in saying that Marta'd never been in the forest - except for a few fleeting moments since moving to Repose. And those weren't exactly frequent or for any reason other than some strange event dumping her there. Actually going into them voluntarily, being able to find her way around without getting hopelessly lost, was never something she'd thought about. And especially not to hunt. Providing food for herself had always meant cheap things like ramen and microwaveable oatmeal, the way she'd survived in some of her harder times. The thought of having a way to get other food was tempting, but... "I don't think... Killing something... I don't think I can?" But the thought of learning the other things was strangely tempting. They were maybe old-fashioned type things, but they could be ways to protect herself if she needed to in the future. So with a little hesitation, "...how would I learn?"