Chapter 3

The next day is a busy day as they go out to get berries, Mushrooms, Wild Sorrell and Roseroot to balance their diet of the Mammoth and reindeer meat they have before the freezing weather comes in.

The air is crisp and cold, the sky a clear canvas for the sun’s early morning light. The snow beneath their fur-wrapped feet is frozen solid, crunching with every step they take. The group of 12 moves silently through the forest, each one listening intently for the sounds of the creatures that might provide their next meal or indicate danger. The smell of pine and frost fills their nostrils, a scent that is as familiar to them as the sound of their own breathing.

Galgan-nga (Duck) leads the way, her sharp eyes scanning the underbrush. She’s the youngest of the group but the most skilled at spotting the berry bushes that are now barely visible under the dusting of snow. Her cheeks are flushed from the chilly air, and her breath forms little puffs of mist in front of her face. She points to a cluster of red berries, and everyone moves in, their excitement palpable. They know the berries will be tart but also a vital source of vitamins. The sound of twigs snapping and the rustling of leaves fills the otherwise quiet forest as they fill their pouches.

Omryn (Robust fellow Burley, the burliest of the group, breaks away from the berry gathering to check on the snares they had set the previous night. He moves with a grace that belies his size, his eyes focused on the ground ahead.

The anticipation of fresh meat makes his stomach rumble. As he approaches the first snare, he sees a flicker of movement and freezes. A moment later, a snowshoe hare, caught in the trap, struggles to free itself.

Omryn’s face breaks into a wide grin, and he quickly secures the animal with a swift blow from his club. The group shares his excitement when he returns with the prize, the hare’s fur still warm to the touch.

Their spirits bolstered, they continue their foraging, splitting into smaller groups to cover more ground. The forest is a mosaic of frozen beauty, with ice-covered branches glinting in the sunlight.

The sound of their footsteps echoes through the stillness, punctuated by the occasional call of a distant bird. They find a small grove of mushrooms, their caps a stark contrast against the white snow, and eagerly harvest them. The elders had taught them well, and they know which ones are safe to eat and which ones will bring only illness.