Chapter 73

• 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 sizes for rolling and binding on my back, two for under me at night, spread out like a thin mattress with some comfort, one rolls up as a makeshift pillow, be it a stiff one is currently off to one side. The largest piece I flip fur down and lay over me as a weatherproof blanket, covering on top of the single blanket I carry with me. It keeps me dry anyway because I don’t need the warmth, but I do like its coziness, even in caves.
• It gives me a sense of security and not feeling as exposed when caught in a black surround made of slightly rough fur.