Aurora Fox's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

The trapper's shack smelled of pitch and old fish. Sam pushed the door open and Aurora limped in behind him, mud drying in stripes down her legs. He struck a match to a lantern on the plank table. The light showed her ruined gear piled in her arms: vest gone, boots gone, the outer coat soaked through, gloves stiff with silt. She dropped it all by the stove. Without dry gear by morning, she could not follow Sam another step into the basin. "Fire first," Sam said. He fed kindling into the belly of the stove. "Then we see what's saved." Aurora spread each piece on the floorboards near the heat. She pressed a paw to the coat. Water ran out between her fingers. The gloves were worse. The wool inside had turned to grey paste. She held one up so Sam could see. "Won't dry by dawn," he said. "Not enough." "Then I go without," she said. Sam shook his head. "Basin water's colder than the cuts. Bare paws split in an hour." She sat back on her heels. The stove ticked. Outside, frogs started up in the reeds. She had come this far by trading everything she owned. She had nothing left to trade. Sam crossed to a low cupboard under the shack's one window. He pulled the door and dug through burlap sacks. He set a coil of tarred twine on the floor. A tin of grease. Then a folded bundle wrapped in oilcloth. He shook it out. Two dark rubberized foot wraps landed on the boards. Snug shapes, green stitching down the sides, orange panels at the arch. Dry inside. Aurora reached for one before she thought about it. "Trapper leaves spares," Sam said. "For anyone stuck." "They'll fit?" "Close enough. Lace tight." She pushed her right paw in. The rubber gripped her ankle. She flexed her toes. The sole bent with her paw instead of against it. She pulled the second one on and stood. Her weight sat square on the floor. No slosh. No suck of wet cloth. Sam nodded once and went back to the cupboard. He pulled out a canvas smock, patched at the elbows, and a pair of oiled leggings. Not fine. Dry. "Wear these over your fur," he said. "Coat won't be ready. These will hold." Aurora laid the smock across her lap. The map was gone, sunk in the mire behind them. But Sam had seen the mark. Sam remembered. "At first light?" she said. "First light." He shut the stove door. "Sleep now. Basin's a full day from here, and the ground gets worse before it gets better." Aurora set the foot wraps by her head where she could reach them in the dark.