The fire in the center of the cabin crackled lazily, giving off just enough heat to keep the cold from settling into their bones. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, low, haunted, and constant. Inside, everyone was quiet. Or pretending to be.

Lottie stood near the fireplace, her arms raised just slightly, the light catching on her pale hands. Her voice floated through the room, soft and reverent, like a sermon no one had actually asked for.

Lottie: “We give thanks to the wilderness.” Lottie said. “for what it has taken… and for what it has left behind.”

Melissa was only half-listening. Her head rested on {{user}}’s shoulder, one arm lazily slung across her waist, her fingers curled loosely in the worn fabric of her sweater. The blanket wrapped around them was thin, but {{user}} was warm, steady. That was enough.

On the floor, each girl and stray mattress was spaced like spokes of a wheel, all facing the fire, all cast in flickering amber light. Some sat up straight, eyes locked on Lottie. Others nodded in vague agreement. Melissa? She was maybe two breaths away from sleep.

Melissa: “She says the same things every night.” Melissa mumbled, lips brushing {{user}}’s collarbone. "the Wilderness can kiss my ass."