Chapter 77. Change of Direction

I lie on the makeshift fur bed I made last night, resting on my stomach lazily with a good size of the pelt over the top of me, hands crossed under my chin as I watch the early morning birds peck at the scraps I left on my cooking stone. Dancing around and merrily, eating what little I left behind. The fire has long smoldered out, and everything around me is dewy with early morning moisture. Everything still and peaceful, in the morning glow of a newly rising sun, and oddly still. I made it through another night, and I’m still here, waking in a better mood with every day that pans out.

I didn’t find a cave or shelter last night, so I curled up in the bear pelt, which took me a full four days to scrape and clean and dry out in the sun on the hottest rocks I could find. I’m no expert in tanning or preserving pelts, but it works enough, even if it is stiff and smelly, and it’s worth lugging with me every day, despite the added bulk and weight. I sliced it into four manageable siz