Nightfall at the Spiral Stone

I checked the firm earth around the carved stone one last time before settling in for the night. The dense fern fronds above form a solid, layered canopy against the open sky, deflecting the heavy evening mist. I drove the tip of my blade into the damp loam at my right hand, keeping it upright and within immediate reach. Wedging my round shield sideways into the hollow between two thick roots created a sturdy backrest. The air out here is cold and filled with the scent of wet mulch, far different from the still warmth of the indoor shelf. My perimeter is set, the yard is quiet, and I will hold this forward camp until first light.