Night settled in fully, cold and heavy, the kind that pressed close and erased distance, leaving only the small pocket of light they allowed themselves. Iyisha knelt in the snow beside Aaron, hands already sore inside her gloves, breath puffing white as she worked.
She had never seen this done before.
Not like this.
The deer lay open between them, body stripped of life and warmth, the sight still sharp enough to make her grimace even as she forced herself to keep going. It was messy. It was bloody. It was nothing like the clean idea of hunting she had carried in her head. And yet she watched every movement, every cut, every pull, knowing that if she ever had to do this alone, this knowledge would matter more than comfort.
She was working the hide.
