Marcus pokes his head through the tent flap. "Taking the sled to pick up the firewood." His breath clouds in the cold air. "Greg’s got a good pile going, but it’s too far to carry."
"Be careful out there." The words slip out before I can stop them. He’s more than capable of handling himself, but after everything we’ve seen lately, caution feels necessary.
He nods once before disappearing into the growing darkness. The runners of the sled scrape against packed snow as he moves away from camp.
The percolator starts to bubble, filling the tent with the rich aroma of coffee. My stomach growls. Trail mix and jerky only go so far.
Through my bond with Selene, I feel her satisfaction. Whatever she’s tracking, she’s getting closer. Her excitement bleeds into my own awareness, making it hard to focus on the mundane task of stirring the stew.
"The others seem to have found something good," Vanessa says, noticing my distraction. "Selene, too?"
"She’s on a trail." I add another piece of wood to the stove. "Fresh tracks in the snow. Are they hunting together?"
"No. She must have found something else."
The tent grows warmer as the stove works its magic. Between the heat and the smells of coffee and stew, it’s a lot cozier than I thought this experience would be.
Another howl splits the night, closer this time. Victory rings in that sound—they’ve cornered their prey.
"Sounds like we might have fresh meat after all," Vanessa says, already pulling out extra cooking supplies.
The percolator bubbles faster now, coffee nearly ready. I breathe in the steam, letting it chase away the lingering chill in my bones.
"What did they catch?"
"Moose."
My eyebrows fly high. "That’s a quick hunt for a moose." I’ve long since gotten over my shock that we even have moose around here. Aside from hearing a few comments about how strange it is that they’re around so early in the year, I’ve learned they’ve always been part of the hunting season. For some reason, I thought they were only in Alaska. Oh, and Canada.
Her lips quirk. "It was stuck. They got lucky once they tracked it down."
The tent flap rustles as Marcus and Greg return, their arms laden with split wood. The scent of fresh-cut pine fills the air as they stack the logs near the stove.
"Need more?" Greg arranges the pieces with practiced efficiency.
"Bring in what we need for the night." Vanessa stirs the stew. "Just pile the rest outside."
Marcus nods and heads back out.
It isn’t long before he’s back.
"Going to help with the moose." He pokes his head back in. "Shouldn’t take long with this many hands. They’ll need the sled."
The tent feels emptier after he leaves. I add another piece of wood to the stove, watching the flames dance through the small plastic window. "What are we going to do with an entire moose worth of meat?" I’m no expert, but I know it’s a lot to carry around.
"Get creative with the packing." Vanessa ladles some stew into bowls. Steam curls up from the thick broth. "We’ll have to reorganize everything, but we can make it work."
My spoon freezes halfway to my mouth. "Won’t that exhaust everyone? They’ve already broken trail all day, and now they have to haul all that extra weight tomorrow?"
Her laugh rings through the tent. "I’m teasing, Ava. The hunting team will come by in the morning to collect most of it. We’ll just take what we need for the trip."
"I didn’t know." The stew warms me from the inside out, leaving me comfortable. "I’ve never been on a winter camping trip before. For all I knew, that’s how you usually do things." fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
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