"This is what you call a shelter?" Andrew pointed toward the hollow inside the old tree.
That hollow appeared to be an excellent place for the little hazel hen to shelter from the rain. However, it was hardly enough for a person. Faith believed she could fit inside if she tried hard enough. What about Andrew, though?
The clouds bled the light from the sun and drained the blue from the sky. The storm was closing in, and there was no time to find another hideout. She had to try it out.
Faith entered the tree. It had enough room to stand, but barely enough to take a step. If she had pressed her back on a side, there could have been enough space for another person, but they would have been extremely close.
True to its scent, webs of stringy silk and a thick smell of tree sap covered the small hiding space. The aroma changed the instant the rain started falling.
She glanced at Andrew. "Come on. It's not that bad."
