A Fortified Cache

Morning light reached the stone hearth where I stood watch. I checked the hollow between the split birch logs where I had stowed the rusted iron bolt last night. The relic remained untouched, but loose bark fragments had slid over the opening. That would not suffice for a proper fortress cache. I knelt, cleared the brittle shavings with the edge of my heavy glove, and repositioned a dry, flat sliver of pine wood directly across the opening to create an immovable hatch. I struck the bark shield once with my knuckles. It held rigid. The spoils of yesterday are fully secured.