From the look Buck gave her, he wasn’t fooled. “These kids have literally superhuman stamina. Don’t kill yourself trying to keep up. Take off your shoes and socks so your feet have a chance to recover. We won’t be heading back for a while.”
Honey was only too glad to rest her tired feet. Rubbing at her soles, she watched, bemused, as Buck assembled twigs and sticks into a rough pyramid. He pulled out a firesteel, striking a spark with a quick, practiced motion.
“Is this all part of your plan?” she asked him.
He bent over to breathe on the tiny flames, coaxing them higher. “Yep.”
“And what, exactly,isyour plan?”
“This.” Buck fed a couple more twigs into the fire. He lifted his voice. “All right, you feral fur balls, enough horsing around. Or bearing around, as the case may be. Who wants to learn how to make a fire?”
From the excited whoops and general scramble for clothes, it seemed everyone did. Beth landed, her hooves turning to feet as the moment they touched the ground. Even Ignatius showed a flicker of interest, following the other kids at a distance as the whole pack came charging over.
When they saw the campfire—now burning merrily—they stopped. Mass confusion descended.
“Aw,” Archie said in disappointment. “I thought you said you were going to teachushow to make fire.”
Buck calmly added a branch to the crackling flames. “I am.”
“But it’s already lit,” Estelle pointed out.
“Yep.” Buck poked at the fire with a stick. “Cardinal rule, kids. Never make a fire unless you’re damn certain you can put it out again. So here’s the first lesson. How would you extinguish this fire?”
Beth immediately thrust a hand into the air.
“Full marks for enthusiasm, but I want to hear other suggestions first,” Buck told her. He looked around the circle. “Claire? Any thoughts?”
Claire went bright red. She looked around for help, then down at her feet. She mumbled, almost inaudibly, “With… water?”
Buck made a neutral sound, deep in his throat. “And did anyone bring a bucket?”
The campers blinked at him.
“Uh,” Flora said after a moment. “Were wemeantto bring a bucket?”
Buck shrugged, going back to poking at the fire. “Going to be hard to carry water without one.”
“We could use our hands,” Flora suggested. “The stream’s not that far away.”
Rufus shook his head.
“Rufus says that wouldn’t work,” Finley relayed. “The fire’s too big already. We wouldn’t be able to carry enough water to put it out.”
“Good eyes, Rufus. You’re right.” Buck tossed his stick into the fire. “And while you’re all standing around trying to figure out what to do, this fire’s spreading. Any bright ideas? Still not you, Beth. Try not to explode.”
Beth, who did indeed look on the verge of spontaneous human (or, Honey supposed, shifter) combustion, reluctantly lowered her hand. The other campers stared into the campfire as though trying to put it out with sheer willpower.
“Maybe jump on it or something?” Flora said, sounding uncertain. “That’s what they always do with fires in movies.”
“We could smother it,” Finley agreed. “But what with?”
Archie shouted, “Flora’s butt!”
“Good thinking, two of you,” Buck said over the outbreak of snickers. “Archie, see me after class. Anyone else want to chip in with ideas not involving anyone’s rear end? No? All right, Beth. Go ahead.”
Beth had gone red-faced, biting her lower lip with the effort of holding herself back. Now words spilled out of her in an eager rush. “Fire needs three things to burn. Oxygen, heat, and fuel. We don’t have a way to remove the heat, so we have to remove oxygen and fuel. The first thing to do is to knock the fire apart and remove any fuel that hasn’t caught yet. Then we should smother it with moist dirt, and stir the ashes to make sure any remaining embers are—”
“Thank you, that’s enough,” Buck interrupted. “Full marks for a clear, accurate, and comprehensive answer. Also, no.”
