***[POV: Fixin' To Vixen]***
The stew had been better than expected. Elk shoulder cut into cubes - with crushed juniper berries to soften the gamey flavor - and root vegetables someone must have gathered before the storm.
My son now slept against my chest in a makeshift sling that Sarah had fashioned from a spare sheet, freeing my arms *theoretically* though I still kept one close. Kyrie sat close beside us, both of our backs against the limestone wall in a quieter alcove.
Around a corner that Tom had directed us toward, far enough from the main chamber for a couple's privacy but close enough for even a human to still hear the murmur of the other survivors settling in for the night.
Her hand had found mine again some point recently - and I didn't pull away.
> Already set the precedent, earlier. Now this is just going to happen, isn't it? <
