Stoking the Embers
Night fell fast out here, so I marched straight up to the ring of heavy stones around the fire pit. Someone left a dry birch branch lying across the rocks, still warm from earlier coals. I grabbed the rough bark with both hands, planted my boots wide in the dirt, and levered the thick stick down hard against a stone until it snapped with a sharp crack. I shoved the broken piece directly into the glowing red center, sending up a quick spray of sparks into the dark. That's how you keep camp secure.

