Lost in the Multiverse - Short Story Collection

2. Under the stars in the forest

Genre: Adventure, fantasy

The frosty air stings my cheeks as I walk through the thick layer of snow covering the forest floor. My shoes plunge into pristine whiteness with every step, leaving a trail behind them. The weight of my backpack is pressing on my shoulders.

" Ah, nothing beats walking through a winter wonderland," I mused out loud, my breath forming clouds in front of my face. The hood of a warm jacket protects me from the cold by casting shadows.

The sun filters through the bare branches overhead, its rays dancing on the snowflakes that fall lazily from the sky. The silence is almost deafening, broken only by the occasional crunch of a branch underfoot or the distant cry of a bird.

As dusk begins to fall over the forest, turning the sky shades of crimson and indigo, I know it's time to seek shelter before night falls completely. The thought of being alone in the dark, surrounded by the eerie sounds of nocturnal creatures, sends shivers down my spine.

" We'd better find some shelter soon," I mutter, scanning the tree line for any sign of a cave or shelter. The fading light makes it increasingly difficult to discern natural formations among the dense foliage.

Suddenly, a gleam of black, partially hidden by a tangle of roots and vines, catches my attention. My heart is pounding, I quicken my pace, anticipation growing with every step. As I go around the obstacle, I notice an opening - the entrance to a small niche. Relief washes over me, tempered by a sense of unease.

" This should be a great shelter," I say, peering into the dark space.

I carefully enter the cave, the musty smell of earth and stone filling my nostrils. Inside, the room is modest in size, but sufficient for a temporary respite from the approaching darkness. I throw off my backpack, letting it fall to the ground with a soft thud.

" I think this is my home for today," I mutter, looking around the enclosed space. The walls are rough-hewn and the ceiling slopes down, creating an intimate atmosphere.

My stomach growls, reminding me that I need to eat. I take out a few necessary things from my backpack - a lighter, matches.

" It would be nice to make a fire," I think out loud, starting to collect brushwood among the sparse vegetation at the entrance to the cave.

With experienced hands, I arrange dry twigs and leaves into the structure of the wigwam, carefully leaving space in the center for air flow. I light a match, watching the flame dance to life, and gently blow on the coals until they spread to the surrounding tinder.

The warmth coming from the small fire is a welcome comfort against the cold seeping into your bones. I add larger logs, coaxing the flames to rise as the heat increases.

Then I unfurl the compact winter tent, its waterproof fabric glistening in the flickering light. I anchor it firmly to the floor of the cave, placing it a short distance from the crackling flames. The insulation of the tent will provide a cozy shelter when night falls.

While the fire continues to roar, I take time to enjoy the tranquility of my makeshift shelter

Hunger gnaws at my stomach, and I rummage through my backpack again, pulling out a mini camping frying pan and two plump sausages. The sizzling sound of meat hitting the hot surface fills the cave with a seductive aroma.

Meanwhile, I place a pan of water on a stone near the fire and bring it to a boil. When the water boils, I pour in a generous portion of buckwheat, stirring the mixture periodically so that it does not burn.

While the porridge is boiling, I take a handful of dried berries from my supplies and crush them between my fingers, releasing their essence into the boiling water. The aromatic steam carries the scent of wild blueberries and cranberries, mingling with the savory aroma of grilled sausages.