Chaska wanted to make a fire. Ashaun wanted no smoke. Ysabet wanted both of them to stop asking her which mattered more.
She had already agreed with Ashaun when Suth said, “I’m cold.”
Chaska gathered sticks.
They kept the fire small, under an old hollow in a root where the smoke broke against wet leaves. Ashaun walked the edge of the clearing once and came back. She said nothing about the smoke.
Suth lay with her head raised on the riding pad. The elk had shifted behind her, warming the air which passed over its body. Its antlers cast faint light through the pale canopy even in daylight.
The packet remained in Suth’s hand.
“Not this one first,” she said when Ysabet touched it.
“What first?”
