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say anything.
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Private.
It was a chilly night, by far the coldest of the season so far. Jericho poked at the small fire before her, shifting the log she was sitting on a little closer. Her thick coat was more than enough to protect her from the cold, but there was something about fire that fascinated her. She saw it as sustaining life, it was something you had to monitor closely. Further more, it reminded her of the humans. She wasn’t exactly a fan of them, she didn’t wish they were still alive today. But she respected what they did, the societies they developed. Jericho read many, many books on the humans, everything her mother and father had brought back from Bleeding Souls. She learned about their societies, the vast cities, cultivated land and most important of all: their beliefs. It was in this department that they seemed to throw in their entire hearts. The theories were as plentiful as they were varied; she spent many hours studying them all. She didn’t regard any of them as truth, for she had her own ideas about a greater being.
A light snow began as the evening stretched into night. She sat where she was, one hand resting on her knee while the other reached out with the stick. The burnt end bit into the smoldering wood as she shifted the burning log onto its other side. The fire hissed and spat a few sparks, flames licking the wood as the heat made the sap sizzle. She loved that sound, she loved the smell, too. Most of all, she loved the quiet nights much like this one.
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