Ned walked for the rest of the day, deep into the forest. The oak trees provided good cover. By early evening, the light faded. And the branches above were too dense to allow him to see enough to keep moving. If he continued, an obvious trail would be made which would be easy to follow. Scouting about, he found a dip in the landscape. Darkness took the land and cold crept in.
Ned opened his bag and pulled out the flint and fire-steel. Krea’s supplies were a life saver now he was alone in the wilds. He piled twigs in a recess between some rocks and kept some thicker sticks aside. Using crinkled, dry leaves as tinder, he swept the steel against flint a few times and sparks leapt onto the leaves. He leaned in and blew until a small flame erupted. He fed it with tinder and the flames grew. Placing twigs over in a cone-shape, Ned warmed up. Eventually, he placed the bigger sticks on and settled down on a bed of twigs, wrapping himself in the blanket. After a drink of water and a biscuit, he lay back to sleep.
The howling wolves should have scared him, but he felt a strange comfort. And the fire would keep him safe. Wrapped in the blanket, Ned still shivered. His lack of warm clothing was a problem. But the only things he could do was light a fire at night, so long as he kept out of sight and ahead of his pursuers, and constant movement to warm him up during the day. His thoughts kept sleep at bay until the glowing embers began to fade. He rolled over and fell into a light sleep as darkness engulfed his small encampment.