A teenager-y whine it certainly is, though it rings more like a nail in the coffin of Jess's resolve to be left alone. She's doing her best out here, without heat or electricity, staving off the temptation to move closer to the village first, and then hypothermia, malnutrition, seasonal affective disorder, and everything else after. It's going about as well as this girl's luck.

"It's not a lot better in here." Jess gets up from the only corner with any sentimental warmth, one side of a couch covered in blankets. She whips off the topmost blanket and crosses to the blue-haired girl that she's pretty sure she doesn't recognize, though how many can there be? At least two, apparently.

While she drags a chair from the kitchen table to directly in front of the wood burning stove, the sole source of heat in the house: "Did someone tell you the place was vacant?" It wouldn't surprise her. She's missed out on the last couple gatherings and screw the census.