
Unn awoke and scratched at his beard. It was cold, and the embers of the fire near the cavemouth were barely glowing. He added some dry moss and attempted to blow them back into life, but his efforts were futile. He dreaded the thought of having to trudge through the snow to his brother’s dwelling to ask for fire yet again. But need prompted him to go see Urn anyway. Unn and clan’s three women that lived with Urn, watched in admiration as Urn struck stones together and sparks emerged. Urn was one bright troglodyte.
Padre
I haven’t lit a fire that way since I was a Boy Scout! a perfect take.
My ninety five!
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