Sam
The chilly breeze wakes me from my blank dreams. I move to snuggle against my pillow and feel nothing. I open my eyes to the bright sunlit morning. I sit up, that breeze messing my hair. I'm alone. I stand up and stretch, without realizing, my wings materialize and stretch with me. The wind in my hair, flying with the birds in the clear blue sky. It makes me smile whenever I think about it. I look around for Em. My stomach growls, I really should get some food. When I walk around to warm up my legs, or to pass the time deciding whether or not to take flight. I hear a rush of the wind and feel a force that almost knocks me off balance. I catch myself, and I turn to see Em standing a few feet away from me. She's holding a deer or an elk in her mouth. Looking at me, she drops it gently on the ground, like a cat with a dead bird or a dog with her chew toy. Without saying anything she takes off again. I guess to get some food for herself. I walk off the rocky platform which is our temporary home, to get firewood for our food, or my food. Pushing brush away to allow me to step through, picking up dry twigs and thick pieces of wood, wondering where the day is going to take us.
After a few minutes, with a couple of loads, I decided to try and start a fire to cook the food. I find a smooth, thick log and a thin, but sturdy stick with a sharp end, like they do in the survival shows. I sit down near the edge to enjoy the small breeze, and I put my legs on top of each side to make sure the log doesn't move, and I started rotating the twig to make an indentation on the log, so it stays in place. After I start seeing it, and I take a deep breath, they make it seem like it's really difficult to make it start smoldering. And I start reluctantly, I don't know how long it takes me until I give up. But now, the sun is between 45 and 90 degrees from the eastern horizon, I'll assume it's around ten. I guess I could try again, so I started up again slowly and then I start to gain speed. I start seeing the faint smoke rise up from the base, determination starts to overtake my weariness and I keep going. The smoke starts to sting my eyes, I stop and blow air onto the ember the wood is developing. I edge it into a handful of dried grass and keep blowing, then it just stops. I had so much hope, I'm just frustrated now.
"Come on, man!!" I yell. I throw the bundle a few feet away from me. I sigh from disappointment, and I clench my hands into fists, my mark feels warm. I stand up and calm my breathing, my frustration builds up that I walk up to the bundle, and just start stomping on it. I couldn't help it. I just stomp, stomp, stomp, away at it. But as I keep stomping out of anger, the ember ignites into a hungry flame again, smoke rises up from it, and I feel the heat from the inside of my worn shoe. I quickly back up, frightened. It shouldn't have done that- for being out for so long and out of nowhere it just explodes into a huge fire. I grab it quickly to get it farther away from the edge and into the pile of twigs I've set up before I started to make the ember. And I look to see if I need to tend it, but it's already a roaring flame that's eating away the twigs. So I run to get bigger logs before that flame dies out.