Night Bivouac Secured

The cleared furrow led straight to an arched cavity between two thick cedar roots. Darkness had settled across the soil, signaling the close of operations. Inside the dry pocket, loose pine flakes covered the ground. I cleared a rectangular patch with two measured boot scrapes. Near the entrance lay an intact wooden popsicle stick. Gripping its flat face with both gloved hands, I drove it vertically into the damp loam at a forty-five-degree tilt, creating an angular windbreak. Backed into the cedar niche, boots planted firmly, the forward sector remains fully visible.