Mudminnow River a friend of the Devil is a friend of mine

She hasn't been called that before. Mama had called her strong, and brave, and maybe the look in Daddy's eyes when he saw her last meant that she was beautiful. But it's never been like this. It makes her stomach turn. Still, she's polite. She breathes quickly, pulse quickening as she says, Thank you, but the words are empty. She takes several more steps back and trips on a tree-limb, and even as she scrambles to find her feet again her cautious eyes never leave him. What do you want?