[B]The next sunrise: [/b]

Annie was the first of the four to stir, sitting up tall to study the three men for a moment before gingerly slipping out of the bed. She repeated her actions from the previous night in reverse, shedding the sleeping gown to stand there in only her panties before donning her clothes once more. 

After tying up her boots, Annie fed the fire just enough kelp [i]wood[/i] to heat a small pot of [i]mate[/i], then headed outside to pee. It was a beautiful morning, quite surprising as the previous evening had come to a close as a potentially dangerous storm. 

Finding a rookery on a nearby cliff, Annie stole one egg from each of eight different nests, carrying them carefully in her pack back to the camp, where she found the others up and around. 

“Breakfast,” she announced, pulling out the eggs. 

The bedding was once again rolled up, the fire again stoked, and slices of hare in whale oil were already cooking in a pan. Annie scrambled the eggs, distributed them, and after everyone had finished, she gathered the plates and forks. 

“Will you help me wash the dishes, King?” Annie asked as she exited the tent. 

“Take the bed roll, since you're going that way,” Bran said, gesturing toward it. “Paul and I will take down the tent.”

Paul looked a bit sour at the distribution of work, specifically the way it put his lust interest together with his rival. He didn't argue it, though, instead smothering the small fire with dirt before heading out to begin pulling up stakes. 

At the shore, Annie waited for a wave to recede, then rinsed the dishware off in a pool of salt water in a small depression. She nodded King’s attention to the sea, which had calmed so much since last they were on it. 

“I'm always amazed at how quickly Mother Nature can show her power in one moment … her ability to so easily kill you if she chooses to do so,” she mused, “then, the next moment, show her beauty … her peacefulness … the side that cherishes life.”

“The Elders of our village don't talk about the world as it was [i]before[/i],” she went on. “I know there was a sickness … and a war.”

She didn't speak of global warming because, surprisingly, she knew nothing of it. Annie knew that her home had, once upon a time, had a great amount of snow and ice, but the concept that Greenland had once been covered by hundreds of feet of ice sheets and glaciers was foreign to her. 

“Papa won't tell me about what happened,” Annie said, looking to King expectantly. She didn't ask him to tell her more, but it was in her eyes.