Otter Creek to be, or not to be

Something bothering me? Blueberry repeated, then laughed scornfully. Um, if you count everybody leaving me and being alone, then, uh, yeah—I guess you could say that.

Her disdain was hot enough to melt snow, and she kept even closer to the alder trunk, despite the woman's words. Fuck you, she thought. She'd rather keep the company of a tree than someone asking this many questions.

She lifted her chin pugnaciously. Why do you care?

It was freezing. Even through winter-hardy thick pelt, she felt the wind cutting through to her skin, and resisted the urge to shiver all over.