It's late. Or very early, depending on your point of view. Only faint moonlight illuminates the room in cool tones, cutting the shape of it in silhouettes and reflecting strangely off the silver-lit eye of the girl sat at the dining table.

Ruby's sleep has been better, since they moved into the farmhouse. It's familiar in a way that nowhere else in the last few years has been, reminds her of being at home in Patch before everything went wrong. She still has bad nights, sometimes; mostly it's nightmares that make it difficult to fall back to sleep, but not tonight. Tonight, she just couldn't fall asleep at all.

And so she sits at the table, with a glass of milk (once upon a time it would have been tea, but she can't— she still can't do tea) and a snack, staring out into the farmland beyond the windows. Her hair is down, her eyepatch is on her bedside table, and she's wearing a nightgown that almost makes her look like a haunted doll.

It's subtle, but every noise in the house makes her freeze for a moment until she decides it's just the creak of a floorboard or the wind through the wood and she settles down.