You Can't Ride In My Little Red Wagon

"What's a daimyo? Is that like a fighter? I want to be a warrior when I grow up!"

Áskell finished staking his sticks and then he padded over to some nearby fallen leaves. He took a big scoop of them and dumped them on top of the fire for kindling. His magpie then flew to the travois and pulled out a piece of flint and a metal stick. The bird set them down on the edge of the fire ring. "Ok, now we need to try and start the fire. The dry leaves act as kindling. They'll catch fire more quickly than a larger stick. I strike metal against flint to make a spark. Now watch." The bird picked the metal stick up in its beak while holding the flint between its talons. It then whipped its head to the side, striking the metal against the flint. It did this several times before a spark leapt from the flint onto the kindling. Áskell held his breath as he watched. Slowly the spark began to grow and then soon it became an actually fire, growing from the kindling to the small sticks to the medium sticks and eventually to the large sticks.

He let out a cheer, his tail wagging.