One morning, a woman in our tribe told everyone about a dream she had as well. She described plowing fields, planting crops. Etc. She said it was like everything came flooding in and knowledge of farming came to her. Her name was Gina.

"Another dream? This is great. The dreams have always helped us when times were tough." Thorne says. "Yes… but there's just one problem. We don't have the tools to do any of that." Gina replies. Elena, ever quick witted, responds "What tools do we need anyways Gina?"

Gina took a deep breath. "We'll need several tools to make farming easier and more efficient. First, we need digging sticks for planting seeds and loosening the soil. They're simple to make by sharpening sturdy sticks against stones. Next, we'll need hoes, which we can create by attaching flat, sharp-edged stones to wooden handles. These will help us till the soil and remove weeds."

“That’s a lot of tools,” Elena said, “And we don’t have much resources to put into developing tools…”

Gina nodded, understanding their predicament. "I know it sounds overwhelming, but we can start with the basics and build from there. We also need axes for clearing land and cutting wood. We can make these by securing sharp-edged stones to wooden handles using plant fibers or vines."

“We have to do this,” Gina said, “We’ve been relying on the forest and the river for too long. We need something more reliable. We need to be able to produce our own food.”

"We need to focus all our efforts on farming," she continued. "If we don't get these crops planted now, we won't survive the winter."

“Wait, what’s winter?” Someone asks. Gina explains “I got this information from my dream as well. In a few months, it’s going to get really cold. Snow, this soft white thing made of water, like rain, will start to fall. It will get so cold it could possibly kill us. As well as kill plants. We cannot grow crops during the winter”

“This sounds very serious,” I say.

Thorne, arms crossed and brow furrowed, shook his head. "If we neglect hunting and foraging, we'll run out of food before the crops even grow. We need a balanced approach. Surely this winter cannot be that bad"

Gina's eyes narrowed. "Thorne, we've been foraging and hunting since we got here, and it's barely been enough. Farming will give us a steady supply of food. And yes, I assure you, winter is that bad."

"But what about the immediate need?" Thorne countered. "We can't eat crops that haven't grown yet. If we don't continue hunting and foraging, we could starve before the first harvest."

The group exchanged uncertain glances, the weight of the decision heavy on everyone's minds.

"I think Gina has a point," Elena said, breaking the silence. "We need to start somewhere, and farming could be our long-term solution. And this winter sounds very foreboding, I think we should trust her on this. The dreams have not led us astray yet."

"And I agree with Thorne," Marcus added. "We need to ensure we have enough food now to last until those crops are ready."

Elena, ever the peacemaker, stepped forward. "What if we split our efforts? Half of us can work on developing tools, clearing the land and planting crops, while the other half continue hunting and foraging. That way, we address both immediate and long-term needs."

Gina and Thorne exchanged a reluctant nod, acknowledging the compromise.

However, the compromise was short-lived. As the days passed, the tension between the two groups only grew. Gina's group, including Elena, Pipo, and me, worked tirelessly on the farm, while Thorne's group, consisting of Marcus and the majority of the others, focused on hunting and foraging.

One particularly hot afternoon, Thorne stormed into the field where Gina's group was working. "This isn't working," he snapped. "We're running low on food, and your crops are barely sprouting. We need more people hunting and foraging."

Stolen novel; please report.

Gina stood up, wiping sweat from her brow. "We need to be patient, Thorne. These crops will sustain us in the long run."

"We don't have the luxury of waiting," Thorne retorted. "We've already had to ration our food. If we don't get more now, we won't make it to the harvest."

Elena stepped forward, siding with Gina. "We have to think about our future. We can't keep living hand to mouth."

Marcus, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. "The future won't matter if we starve to death first. Thorne's right. We need to focus on what can keep us alive now."

Pressure was going up within Gina’s mind. She’d been working day in and out for weeks to make the crops work, but it was going too slow, with too many challenges to face.

"You're just scared of change!" Gina shouted, her face red with anger. "You'd rather stick to what you know than try something new that could save us all!"

"And you're so blinded by your dream that you can't see reality!" Thorne fired back. "We can't eat dreams, Gina!"

The shouting match continued until it became clear that no agreement could be reached. Thorne's group, including Marcus and the majority of the others, decided to focus solely on hunting and foraging. They took their tools and supplies, leaving Gina's group with minimal resources.

As Thorne's faction moved out, the air was thick with unresolved tension and unspoken fears. The once unified group was now divided, each faction determined to prove the other wrong.

Gina turned to us, her eyes filled with determination. "We can do this," she said. "We have to show them that farming is the way forward."

I nodded, feeling the weight of our task. "We'll make it work," I said. "We have to."

With the group now split, we dug in deeper, working longer hours to clear the land and plant the seeds. The division had made our task harder, but it also steeled our resolve. We would prove Thorne and his faction wrong, or die trying.

But we failed. Without enough manpower we could barely grow any crops. Weeks turned into months and soon, winter came. The first frost hit us hard. Our meager harvest was insufficient to sustain us through the cold months, and our morale plummeted. The reality of our situation set in as we huddled in our inadequate shelters, the biting cold seeping through the cracks. The wind howled outside, relentless and unforgiving.

One evening, as we gathered around a small, struggling fire, I could see the weariness etched into everyone’s faces. The shadows on the walls danced like restless spirits, mirroring the unease that clung to us all.

Gina broke the silence. “We have to do something. We can’t survive like this.”

Elena, her eyes hollow from lack of sleep, nodded in agreement. “We need to swallow our pride and ask Thorne’s group for help. If we keep fighting, we’ll all perish.”

I glanced around at our exhausted faces. The weight of our situation pressed down on us like a heavy blanket of snow. “Elena’s right,” I said, trying to sound more resolute than I felt. “We need to reunite. It’s our only chance.”

The next morning, we trudged through the snow-covered forest, our breath visible in the freezing air. Each step seemed to echo the growing desperation in my heart.

As we approached Thorne’s camp, I saw the familiar faces of the others—weathered and worn, their own struggles evident. Thorne greeted us with a guarded look, as if expecting another argument.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice holding a trace of suspicion.

Gina stepped forward, her face pale but determined. “We need to talk,” she said. “We can’t keep going like this, divided. We need each other to survive.”

Marcus crossed his arms, his eyes sharp. “And what makes you think we’ll just take you back? You were so sure of your farming plan.”

I could see the anger in Gina’s eyes, the way she struggled to keep her composure. “We were wrong. We underestimated how hard it would be without enough hands. But we still believe farming is essential for our future. If we work together, we can combine our skills and make it through this winter.”

Thorne’s face remained unreadable. “We’re all suffering. If we keep this up, none of us will survive the winter. But if we work together... maybe we have a chance.”

As we started to work together again, the atmosphere was tense. Each day was a grueling battle against the cold, but there was a flicker of hope in our hearts. We tried to find a rhythm, balancing hunting and foraging with the urgent need to repair shelters and prepare for the months ahead.

But the cold was merciless. It cut through our clothing and numbed our fingers as we worked, and no amount of effort seemed to make a difference. I could see the strain in everyone’s eyes, the silent, unspoken fear of what the future held.

During the winter we noticed many people feeling sick. We all shrugged it off, ignorantly thinking they would just get better.

One morning, we discovered that several members of our group had not woken up.