Camping With the Boys

In the heart of the Sparse Pines, Zagan was traveling with his brothers. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows of gold and amethyst across the autumn sky. The nights were growing colder by the day- the air now crisp with the tinge fallen leaves and crystallizing dew. The once long, summer-time sunsets were quicker now- the forest transforming as darkness encroached, the brilliant colors fading into muted hues before they could reach The Polar Sound. Each breath they drew came out in visible puffs, mist starting to rise from the ground, curling around the bases of the ancient trees. A shutter ran through Zagan, and the chill in the air became palpable- the bite of the cold seeping through his fur, making his skin prickle and his tail flick to and fro.

When Xairo suggested they build a camp for the night, Zagan paused, glancing at his brother’s with an analyzing eye. They both seemed equally as irritated by the cold as he was, and they didn’t have enough time to reach their den’s in The Polar Sound. So long as they were in The Syndicate’s domain, they could set up a camp anywhere, really- and a camp out in the Sparse Pines might do their survival instincts some good. Nodding, he expresses his agreement with the notion, before turning his bi-colored gaze to their surroundings. A gust of wind picked up around them, and a shiver involuntarily ran through him, as he felt the weight of the impending night bearing down on his shoulders.

There was a cluster of pine trees nearby, their dense boughs large enough to provide cover from the gusts of wind. Xairo gave a command to collect pine needles and branches, and Zagan huffed at him, and cocked a brow in his direction. Who was he to order him around? “I’m going to find logs for a fire.” He says, reluctant to follow his brother’s instructions. Xairo and Ludo could work on collecting pine needles and branches for bedding.

Sauntering away, Zagan moves through the dimming forest, weaving between the towering pine trees. His eyes are scanning the ground, searching for fallen logs and clusters of bark. After collecting a few logs and setting them in a pile near their makeshift bed, he returns to the forest, searching for a pine tree that hasn’t become laden with nighttime dew. He chooses the driest tree in the area, and begins scratching at the bark with his claws, to reveal the smooth wood underneath. Collecting a few strips, he knew these pieces would catch fire quickly- he could use them to start the fire, and add the logs to keep it going.

The moon was hanging low in the heavens now, casting a pale light across the floor, urging them to work faster. Or they might freeze before the morning came. Having collected enough wood and kindling to start their fire, Zagan started to arrange his supplies, creating a foundation with the smaller twigs and leaves. His toes were starting to feel numb from the cold, his heart racing in anticipation as the urge to start the fire and warm their bodies increased by the second.

After carefully layering the kindling, Zagan tucked the smooth, dry pieces of pine he’d collected in the center of the kindling- the thin strips promising to catch fire easily. He’d use his blade to create sparks- striking it against a rock with enough force to send tiny sparks flying into the kindling. The bark caught the sparks, and flames slowly started to flicker to life. To coax the flame upward, Zagan leaned down and gently blew on it. And once it was flickering and crackling rhythmically, he added the rest of the sticks he collected, and ended with the logs.

As the warmth of the flame enveloped the small clearing, a rush of satisfaction rolled through him. Slowly, it would thaw the chill that seeped into his bones, as the flame illuminated their surroundings, casting shadows that played across the trees. He glanced at his brothers, motioning for them to join him beside the fire, once they were done creating their bedding.

word count: 695


"Zagan Saxe"