Shaynen shrieked as he ran away from Garrick. He ran around the large campfire that was being built but wasn’t lit yet. Garrick was it in the game of pass the stick. They were keeping just out of reach of Shaynen, if only because he kept weaving between the adults to throw them off.

“Okay!” one adult grabbed Shaynen and Garrick. “Why don’t you kid’s play something that doesn’t involve running around?”

“Like what?” Garrick asked. A small crowd of children that were also playing came to see what was going on.

“We could find an acorn or seed pod,” Shaynen suggested.

“And play hidden gardens?” Another child asked.

“Or you could play a game like mockingbird or pruning time?” Asked one mother. “Something that could make you all a little smarter?”

“Mockingbird is fun.” Garrick said.

“That’s cause you let no one else be the mockingbird!”

“Wait, why not come up with something new?” Shaynen suggested.

“Like what?”

Shaynen thought hard and looked around the ground. The little area they’d stopped to camp had little grass. Instead, made up of hard dirt with few pebbles and sticks.

“What if we…” he said slowly to buy more time. “Stand in different places, and whoever’s it has to pass a phrase to the next person, and that person becomes it and they have to add to it and pass it to the next person.”

“And at the end, you guys will have a little story!” The mother said. “You could call it leaves in the breeze.”

“Yeah! And we can play hide and seek at the same time!”

“I’ll be it first!” Garrick threw their hand into the air. They covered their face and started counting. The handful of children scattered before the second number. Shaynen ran aimlessly, watching where the other kids were hiding. One went beneath the wagon, another was behind the wagon. One hid in the middle of the adults, working on quilts.

Shaynen paused. His favorite place to hide was always up in trees, but the flat lands they stopped in had no trees, or really anything to hide behind. The only actual places to hide were based more on perspective than any really concealed space. Garrick was counting higher. They never said what number they were counting to. Shaynen panicked. They had hung ropes on long sticks buried in the ground so laundry could dry. But there were only small clothes hanging on the line. Nothing large enough to hide behind.

Shaynen ran to the wagon and yanked a quilt out. He heard whoever had been sleeping under the quilt yell at him. He yelled back a quick apology and ran to the clothesline. Tossing the quilt onto the line and jumping up onto the line. The sticks held his weight, but wiggled as he hooked his knees over the line. He grabbed the quilt and yanked it over himself, and held the line beneath it.

A small breeze blew the quilt, keeping his obvious shape hidden. He heard Garrick yell, ‘ready or not, here I come!’ He smiled and tried to keep still so as not to give himself away. He bit his lip as he heard footsteps coming near.

“There is nothing to harvest, nothing to hunt.” A voice whispered hushedly. "What are going to do? How are we going to feed thirty people on a single bag of grain?"

"We'll ration for now. The lands won't be bare forever. They more than likely aren't now. We just aren't used to tracking and hunting in these parts."

"Are we going to have the time to get better? What about the stags?"

"What about them?"

"Do we even need two of them?"

"Do you want to pull the wagon?"

"They need to eat too… there isn't enough around to sustain them."

"..."

Shaynen shifted to listen to the group of adults on the other side of the laundry line. Using it as cover just like he was.

“FOUND YOU!” Yelled Harlan as he yanked the quilt off the line. Shaynen laughed and dropped. Harlan had Garrick and the kids hiding in the wagon with him.

“What are you kids doing?” One adult, the one who used to be Lycita’s mother, asked.

“We’re playing leaves in the breeze!” Harlan said. He grabbed Shaynen by the arm and pulled him in to whisper in his ear.

Once upon a forever ago,

There was a princess who lived in the swamp.

She went to visit her friend; The Forest Princess.

But got hopelessly lost in the trees.

The Swamp princess felt for her crown, but it was missing!

She searched for her crown and saw something moving between the trees.

She followed the figure moving in the trees.

It led her to a clearing…

Shaynen thought about the bit of a story so far. He came up with an addition and started looking around the camp for where the other kids could be hiding. It was an unspoken rule that those found couldn’t reveal where the others were hiding. On the penalty of ostracization. Shaynen caught sight of someone peeking out of the quilts. He took off and grabbed the edge of the blanket. Lifting it up and yelling.

“Shaynen!” the quilters all yelled as he yanked their work from their hands.

“Sorry!” He yelled, he dropped and whispered the story now with his addition. The two of them crawled out from under the quilt as the quilters took up their work again.

The evening breeze was picking up. With no cover from the trees, the biting wind cut deeper than Shaynen was used to. He fell behind as the others ran to find the next hiding child. He tried to pull his sleeves down to insulate him better, but it did little.

"You getting cold?" Lycita's mother asked as she passed.

“A little,” Shaynen admitted. Lycita’s mother looked around and leaned down. Beckoning him closer.

“There’s a cloak in the wagon under the seat.” She whispered. “It’s all yours if you want it.”

“Thanks!” Shaynen said he ran to the wagon. He jumped into the back of the wagon. The covered wagon was filled with half the remaining village. Sleeping to prepare for keeping watch in the night. Inside, the covered area was much warmer with the trapped heat from the huddled mountains of blankets and bodies. Gentle snoring and breathing rhythmically traveled back and forth from one side of the wagon to the other.

Shaynen crept through the crowd and groped under the seats until his hand felt the fabric. He draped it around his shoulders and crept back out from the wagon. The chilly night air hissed into the camp and scraped its claws over Shaynen’s arms, leaving him with goosebumps. He pulled the surrounding cloak tighter and jumped down from the wagon.

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Dark night was moving through the sky, and the sun had vanished behind the forest in the distance. Shaynen’s nose wrinkled in disgust as a nasty smell traveled along the breeze. Around the side of the wagon, shrouded completely in shadow, was the doctor. The only light that touched him was the pipe he was smoking. Creating the distasteful smell. Shaynen watched him for a few minutes. The look of him made his skin crawl.

“Hey, kid.” The doctor breathed out a long line of blue tinged tobacco smoke. Shaynen jumped and ran to join the other kids before he could be trapped in conversation with the creepy physician.

“There you are!” Garrick said as Shaynen approached the crowd. “We thought you had cheated.”

“Nope. Just got a little chilly.” He said and pulled the cloak over his shoulders tighter.

“I’m cold too,”

“Me too!”

Shaynen looked at the crowd, all holding their arms and complaining of the cold. Shaynen held the cloak but couldn’t see a way they could all share it. The quilt he’d brought from the wagon was still hanging on the line.

“We’ll all use the quilt!” Shaynen said, running for the laundry line. “We can be near the fire. Looks like the grownups are lighting it.” Garrick and Harlan came along with him to pull down the quilt from the line. Shaynen kept hold of the middle, Garrick and Harlan holding the edges. Shaynen bounced between the two as they played some kind of tug-o-war. By the fire that was just smoldering, Shaynen threw the quilt up.

“Everyone under!” He yelled. The small crowd ran under the edges of the blanket, giggling in a tangled mess of limbs. The quilt fell down over them with only Shaynen still visible.

“What beast is this?” laughed the firestarter. “I’ve never seen a beast with (one, two, three-) six humps! And what strange fur this beast has. With its many colors.” The children under the blanket started giggling madly. Shushing each other to silence.

“Does this beast have claws?” The firestarter crept around the fire as the flames took hold of the branches. Under the quilt, a pair of children lifted the edge enough to swipe at the firestarter. “Oh-ho! Two claws on each side? How peculiar!”

“Indeed. How many legs does this beast have?” Approached a quilter. The edges of the quilt lifted to reveal the children’s dirty and bare feet. All moving around each other. “Goodness! Fourteen legs! What a formidable beast this is!”

“Is it a friendly beast?”

Shaynen ducked under the quilt.

“Are we friendly guys?” He whispered.

“It can pull its head into its body,” the firestarter gasped. “Like a turtle!”

“You think it’s a relative of the turtle?” The quilter asked.

Shaynen popped back out after deliberating with the rest of the group.

“Yes. we are friendly.” Shaynen declared.

“Oh, good.” the quilter said. “How fearsome this beast would be if it wasn’t friendly!”

“Where’s the kettle?” Adults were yelling and coming around the fire and trying to organize themselves.

“Has anyone woken up the night watch?”

“We are really scary!” Shaynen insisted. Listening to the voices all whispering at his back.The quilter laughed.

“Has anyone gotten water for the stew?”

“Oh, shoot. That’s me!” The firestarter yelled and ran off. Shaynen turned around to face the quilting group that all paid attention to the quilt beast. The whispers behind him turned to complaints.

(It stinks under here)

(Get out of my space!)

(I’m hungry)

“Guys, stop moving around,” Shaynen hissed.

“All right guys, time to simmer down." Shaynen's father came up with the bag of dried food alongside the firestarter walking with a cauldron of water.

"While we still have a water resource, we should fill up everything that can hold water." His mother directed as she crossed behind the quilt of kids.

"Right,"

Shaynen felt the quilt moving. He looked back and saw the kids leaking out of the quilt. He shrugged and also left the quilt.

"It's going to be a bit before dinner's ready." His mother said. Brushing his hair out of his face.

"Kay," he said. He turned to the group of children in and out from under the quilt. "What do we do now?"

"It's getting cold. I don't want to play in the cold."

"We could play rain catchers?" Garrick suggested.

"Or the numbers games."

"I'm bad at the numbers games,"

Shaynen readjusted the cloak over his shoulders. He stared into the fire, trying to think of something to keep them entertained.

“If you kids are bored, you could help with the quilts?” The quilting group asked. Moving their circle closer to the fire.

A pair of the older children shrugged and floated into the circle. Sitting in the gaps and taking up the corners.

“I could use some help to gather water,” the firestarter offered in passing.

“I’ll help!” another kid ran off alongside him.

“We could split up and play our own games?” Shaynen suggested. “We kinda already are.”

“That’s fair,” Harlan agreed. “I’m going out to help look for root vegetables.”

“I’ll help,”

“Me too!” The last three children ran off into the flatland night. Shaynen watched the other kids doing their own thing.

“Why don’t you put quilt up?” His mother asked from the fireside. Shaynen looked down at the discarded quilt left in the dirt. He scooped it up and took it to the wagon. The night watch was milling around the wagon. Changing their sleep clothes and bantering around with each other. Shaynen brought the quilt and tossed it into the wagon.

“Hey, you gonna fold that?” Reo asked, stopping Shaynen from leaving.

“Do I have to?” Shaynen asked.

“Yes,” they said. Shaking their head. “What did you need it for? You yanked it from me while I was sleeping.”

“Sorry,” Shaynen climbed up on the driver's seat and pulled the quilt halfway across the divider. Matching the corners and folding it. “We were playing hide and seek.”

“Slim pickings for hiding spots here,” Reo said. Looking around the campsite.

“Yeah, that’s why I needed the quilt.” Shaynen said. Folding up the blanket and sticking it away.

“DOCTOR!”

The yelling caught Shaynen’s attention. The three children and four adults came running. Three of the adults were holding a rag to the fourth’s arm. From behind the wagon. Dr. Zondai tapped out his pipe and stuck it into his pocket. He ran to meet the group at mid-campsite.

“What happened?” The doctor asked. Taking the man’s arm.

“Snake. Stumbled across its nest looking for roots.”

Shaynen leaned around the wagon to watch. The doctor took the rag off the injury and gave a curt nod.

“Did you see what it looked like?” He asked.

“No, heard it, though. Like if a hummingbird’s wings could be heard and were sharp.”

“A rattler then,” the doctor said after a pause. “That would make it consistent with the swelling.”

“It fucking kills, doc.” The bitten said through clenched teeth.

“I imagine so, and don’t call me ‘doc’.” The doctor said, handing the bloody rag off. “Fetch me water, bandages, whatever you have that can be considered medicine. Rattler venom is notoriously fatal.”

“Meaning?” Shaynen’s father asked, coming up alongside the crowd.

“Meaning without proper medicine, it’s a hundred to one chance of shaking the venom off.” The doctor said his speech was still slow, with no sense of urgency. “We might dilute the venom with water and some thinners. But it’s probably better if we just avoid rattlers.”

“Shaynen!” His father yelled. Shaynen just about fell off the wagon. “Fetch the medic bag in the wagon!” Shaynen scrambled into the wagon and felt around in the darkness, picking up bags and holding them in the silver of pale moonlight to see what they were.

He leapt over the wagon with the right bundle and ran to the doctor. Presenting it to him.

“Good, I could use a second set of hands.” The doctor said, opening the bag.

Shaynen’s cheeks went green. Instantly feeling sick at the sight of the bloody wound.

“No thank you,” He whimpered.

“I got it.” His father took the bag and Shaynen ran. Barreling into his mother and burying his face in her stomach.

“I’mn gonna be sick,” He muttered into her dress.

“Okay, let’s get you to the edge of the camp, then.” She said back. Half-dragging him away from the campsite. His mother leaned him down and rubbed his back as he gasped. Trying to keep his nearly empty stomach down.

"It's just a little bite, honey." His mother whispered. "Nothing but a little blood."

"It doesn't look like just a little bit," Shaynen gagged. “They have holes in their arm.”

“I know, and it’s okay.” his mother said. “It’s okay. They’re going to be okay.” Shaynen took deep breath.

“So they’re going to die,” Shaynen said.

“What? No-”

“You always say that things are going to be okay when someone dies.” he said. Taking another deep breath as the nausea was dying down. “The doctor said the thing that bit them kills its victims.”

“It’s not for certain.” She said. Shaynen took another deep breath.

“I don’t like it when people die,” he whispered. “If I was in charge, no one would ever die.”

“Yeah,” His mother nodded. “I understand what you mean. You feeling better?”

“I guess,” He shrugged.

“Okay, why don’t you help me with dinner, then?” She suggested. Leading him towards the fire. Shaynen looked up and his father and the doctor. They’d moved to the back of the wagon and laid the man down. Shaynen looked away quickly. He played with the beads of Lycita’s bracelet and steadied his nerves.