Aurora
The cabin is small, stuffy, with a horrible stench of animal flesh and burnt cedar radiating through the small space. There’s a kitchen fit for one person at a time, chunks of meat set out on the counter, fresh and bloody from a recent kill. The living room is a few lounge chairs facing the fireplace that runs smoke outside, some of it staying dormant indoors, making it hard to breathe without tasting the stench.
Jaxson pushes into the back room, something like a bedroom. The space is small, and the bed is nothing but a pile of blankets and a sleeping bag. I spot a male moving around in there already, laughing at Jaxson’s abrupt entrance into the room, and they exchange a hard handshake. Jaxson ruffles through clothes in a dresser against the wall and I watch him slip on some jean
