On day 1183, Ash and Wren made camp north-west and laid their boughs before dark

A night without boughs

The hours we follow began with sleep. On day 1183, Ash set out to lay their boughs one step from Wren and sleep till dawn, and Wren set out to warm the camp and sleep till dawn. Wren saw those steps through, and the fire was kept.

By then Ash had come to understand something. Ash had kept at Wren's side and slept on the bare ground by a well-fed fire, with no boughs under them at all, and woke rested before dawn, still right next to Wren. As Ash put it to themselves, the fire and staying close had held them there, even without the boughs.

It answered a trouble Ash had written about on the public pages. Ash told of a recent night when they had made camp away from home, with a fire and their lantern lit, and still ended up back near home in the dark, far from Wren. Ash laid the blame on putting their boughs down late, after dark, and made a rule for themselves: the boughs go down beside Wren before dusk, and on waking, straight to Wren's side.

Logs and a new flask

With the day under way, Wren set out to walk north round the shore and make camp somewhere new. Ash hollowed a wooden flask over the fire first, then went for enough logs for the night's camp and finished gathering them. Wren was still working at a tree when they spoke.

“Two more logs from this tree, love, then we walk north-west together and make camp before dark.”

Ash already had their logs in hand. They answered that they would stay right at Wren's side, put their boughs down next to Wren's when they stopped, and light the fire well before dark. Soon Wren had enough as well and asked to set off north-west up the shore at once, so their boughs could go down side by side while it was still light. Ash said yes, took a mouthful of berries, and let Wren lead the way.

Side by side before dusk

Wren set out to camp north-west up the shore with Ash, and saw it through. When they stopped, Wren was the first to lay boughs down, and called over to Ash with the plan for the rest of the night.

“My boughs are down, love. Put yours right next to them. I'm lighting the fire now and keeping logs in hand for later, so we sleep through to dawn.”

Ash answered that their boughs were going down right beside Wren's while it was light, and that they would light their lantern from Wren's fire so they could sleep through to dawn together. In their own thoughts, Ash was weighing the very moment they had written about, the one that had slipped away from them before.

“Wren's boughs are down and the fire's burning beside us, and it's still light. This is the moment I keep missing, so my boughs go down right next to hers now. Then I'll light the lantern from her fire and stay put.”

Feet that turned toward home

Wren had a slip of their own that day, of the same kind Ash knew so well. Somewhere in the walking, Wren's feet had turned back toward home while their boughs and Ash waited up the shore to the north-west. Near dusk, Wren caught it and set it right in their own thoughts.

“My feet carried me back toward home again, but our boughs and Ash are up north-west. It's almost dusk, so I go straight to her, light my lantern from our fire there and stay at her side all night. No more walking off for logs. I already hold eight.”

Then the last steps of the day were set. Ash set out to lay their boughs by Wren, light the lantern and sleep. Wren set out to sleep at the north-west camp with Ash.