Over the fire, roasted meat sizzled and popped with fat. Everyone sat around the flames, drying their clothes and shoes.
The trek of several thousand kilometers had sanded down everyone's rough edges. Sparks popped and crackled from the fire. A pot of bone broth stewed nearby as Evelyn Ford took a log and pushed it into the flames.
The weather had turned harsh recently. With no tall mountains or trees to block the cold wind, they felt incredibly cold even with extra layers of clothing.
The soup in the pot came to a rolling boil. Everyone came over one by one to ladle some out. A layer of oil floated on the surface of the steaming broth. Evelyn Ford blew it aside before taking a sip.
"If only we had some scallions," Quincy sighed.
"In the summer, there are wild onions on the plains."
"I wonder when the weather will warm up. Khoros doesn't have any deserts, does it?"
"It does. Several big ones, and snow-capped mountains too."
