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I woke to find Scar was already up and about, and I laid back in the furs with a satisfied smile while thinking about our time in the pool beneath the waterfall last eve. The memory lingered far longer than the warmth of the fire, and I found myself smiling despite the chill that had settled into the cave during the night. There was something about knowing he was nearby, moving about in the early morning, that made the cave feel different to me now. It was no longer simply a place where I slept and kept my belongings; it was becoming our place.
Finally rising, I figured I should get some work done around here. There was still plenty to do to get us ready for the winter, and no time like now to get it done. The nights were already growing colder, and the Northern Forest had begun its slow change, the leaves thinning from the branches and the mornings carrying a sharpness that had not been there only a few weeks before. Winter would not wait for us to be ready, and I had no intention of allowing it to catch us unprepared.
I began with the furs, pulling each one from the sleeping shelf and inspecting the hides carefully. Those that were still soft and sound I shook free of loose hairs and dust before laying them aside, while the older ones I examined for weak places that would need mending. I had brought some of these hides home, and I found myself running my fingers over one particularly thick pelt, remembering the way he had dropped me on it with that quiet, satisfied look of his after our romp in the water.
Scar was the perfect Mate for me as he like me, never wasted a life taken for food or warmth, and I had learned to respect that about him. Nothing here was taken merely because it could be.
Once the sleeping place was tended, I turned my attention to the cave itself. I checked the opening and the places where the wind could find its way through, already thinking of how we might make the entrance more secure without closing ourselves away from the forest entirely. A smaller opening would hold the warmth better, while the larger cavern beyond it would give us room to work, store provisions, and keep the fire burning through the worst of the cold. I had been thinking about that for days now, and the thought of a deeper winter shelter pleased me more than I cared to admit.
There were also the stores to consider. I gathered the dried herbs and roots we had collected, sorting them carefully and placing the more delicate things where the damp could not reach them. Nuts, berries, and other foods would need to be dried and stored before the forest became stingy with its bounty. Meat would need to be smoked or otherwise preserved, and I made a mental list of the things we would need to hunt before the snow came in earnest. Scar was a hunter who understood the forest better than most men I had known, but even the best hunter knew better than to depend upon tomorrow’s kill when winter was waiting.
I carried several bundles of kindling closer to the fire and began sorting the larger pieces of wood from the smaller ones. The smaller sticks would serve for starting the fire quickly, while the heavier pieces could be saved for the long nights when the cold would settle over the forest like a living thing. I imagined Scar returning from a hunt, cold and tired, finding the fire already burning and food waiting for him, and that thought brought another small smile to my lips. I had never thought of myself as a woman who would concern herself with such things for a man, yet somehow with Scar it did not feel like submission. It felt like choosing.
By midday, I was already thinking of what else needed doing. More candles would need to be made, clothing checked, skins repaired, and every useful scrap of hide put aside rather than wasted. I would need to make more cordage and inspect our tools, weapons, traps, and snares. Winter had a way of exposing every weakness, and I intended for ours to be as few as possible.
As I worked, I found my thoughts returning again and again to Scar. To his hands. His voice. The way he looked at me beneath the waterfall last evening. I shook my head at myself and returned to my work, though the smile refused to leave my face. There would be plenty of time for remembering once the work was finished.
For now, there was a winter to prepare for, a cave to make ready, food to gather, hides to mend, and a life to build.
Our life.
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