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"Do you ever wonder what they'd think of you?" Ivan asked, the light of the fire dancing faintly across his face as he pressed a bandage to his right arm. The boy looked across the fire at Cade, who didn't look up at him, instead focusing on the blade that he currently held over the open flames.

"Who?" Cade asked.

"You know, your parents? Your family? Your old friends?" Ivan clarified.

"Do you?"

"Me? Yeah, a lot. During the day when we're traveling, setting up camp, hunting, hiding... I don't really think about it. But at night, like this, when we're by the fire or sleeping... I do." Ivan admitted. Cade took the burning blade, glowing orange with heat out of the fire and inspected it. He briefly turned his attention to the sleeping bags to his right, before returning his attention to the knife and placing it back in the fire.

"Do you feel guilty?" Cade asked, actually looking up and making eye contact with Ivan this time, but not taking his hand off the handle of the blade.

"Guilty? Like I did something wrong? No."

"Then why does it bother you?" Cade asked. Ivan looked down, rubbing his hands together and staring at his feet.

"Because it's not right. Every night I sit in the dark thinking about the things I've done. I'm fifteen, and I've killed ten people. Living, breathing, possibly even good people. Ten. I count almost every night. I know all of their faces and almost none of their names." Ivan angrily whispered, just barely controlling the level of his voice. Cade let go of the knife and leaned back on the rock he was sitting on, folding his hands on top of his knees. "I've watched my friends die, and I've watched them kill people." Ivan continued, "I spend all day trying to convince a nine year old that we aren't going to starve to death this week. That we might actually be able to catch enough food for once. The dead walk. They try to kill us, and eat us, and make us one of them. This world isn't right, Cade, and you know that."

Cade stared up into the sky, thinking back to simpler times, when his problems ended in the afternoon and didn't start up again until the sun rose. He looked back at the sleeping bags, at the three others, sleeping. Being able to pretend for the next six hours that things were alright, were normal. He then looked over at Ivan, meeting the teenagers eyes. He saw fear, and sadness, and anger. But this wasn't the thing in Ivan's eyes that upset Cade. No, those were all emotions Cade could deal with. He could defend him, and help Ivan get over his fears. It would take time and effort, and it would be years of hard work but they could get there. He could work to replace the sadness with happy memories. It was hard in these days, especially compared to the past, but Cade knew it was a possibility. There was always a chance, and by solving these other two issues Cade sought to help Ivan get over his anger.

But the most prominent thing in Ivan's eyes, or rather what wasn't in them, was something Cayde knew he couldn't solve. Cade hadn't noticed it before tonight. In the back of his mind he'd knew, and he'd been trying to look out for it and avoid it all along, but he knew what it was. There was no innocence in Ivan's eyes. The boy had lost all of that.