They had been walking for about an hour and a half. The sun was almost at the highest peak.
“We can take a moment to rest, eat and drink something,” he offered.
“Don’t stop on my behalf. I can keep going.”
He looked at her. “I know that you can keep going. But if we take a moment to rest, not over due it, we can still make it to camp before the sun sets. By going slow and taking it easy, we’ll be more prepared tomorrow for the next challenge.”
She considered it. “You’re right.”
“I know.”
That made her roll her eyes at him. She shrugged off her pack and stretched her arms and shoulders. She opened her pack and pulled out the shredded tent. He looked at her with confusion.
She laughed as she explained. “I can’t use it as a tent anymore, but most of the material is here. I will spread it on theground, so we have something dry to sit on. We can pull out food and drinks. It will be like a picnic.”
“What is that?” he asked.
“It’s basically what we are doing now. Sitting out a blanket of sorts, sitting down, eating and drinking and enjoying the day. Of course, on Earth it is usually done in warmer weather, at a park on grass.”
“On my planet, this would be the warmer season.”
“Really? Is this warm to you?”
He shrugged. “If you felt the Cold Season on Crytharia, you would understand.”
She pulled out her food pouch and motioned for him to sit down across from her. He removed his own food pack and sat down. They drank their water and ate their food.
Mara wanted to know more about Vaelor. “Tell me more about the different seasons and how your people live through them.”
“I will if you answer my questions,” he told her.
Now she was confused. “There’s not much about me to know.”
“That is the deal.”
She sighed. “Fine. But you tell me about the seasons.”
He stared out at the ocean. “The Cold Season is the most brutal period on my world. When it comes, the surface dies. Not slowly. All at once.”
Mara paused, food forgotten. “Dies how?”
“The temperatures drop so far that exposed flesh freezes in moments,” he said simply. “Metal cracks. Ice storms blind you. Nothing survives above ground—not for long.”
“So… what do you do?”
“We retreat.” His voice was steady, but there was weight beneath it. “Every clan. We abandon the surface entirely and descend into the planet. Our settlements are carved deep intothe stone, as close to the core as we dare. Even the wildlife retreats beneath the surface to survive. Most hibernate.”
“Because it’s warmer,” she guessed.
“Yes. The core gives off heat—constant, dependable. It’s the only thing that keeps us alive during the frozen death above.” He glanced at her. “We call them Clan-Settlements. That’s where we live for most of the cycle. Train. Repair. Endure.”
Mara frowned slightly. “What about food?”
“Meat is scarce,” he admitted. “Hunting on the surface is impossible. We ration what we preserved during the Warm Season. Every decision is measured. Waste is not forgiven. Our underground gardens have had a few bad seasons.”
She absorbed that quietly, then asked, “So the Warm Season is better?”
Vaelor’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. “Better… and worse.”
