Elon lead her within. There wasn’t much but a fireplace full of ash and a rotting bedframe. Drops of rain dribbled from the roof above. Elon seated her in the driest corner he could find before tipping the bedframe on its side and dragging it outside. The wood wasn’t strong enough to support their weight, and it would needlessly take up room.
Next was the roof. He grabbed a tarp from his sack before leaping, catching the edge of the roof, and hoisting himself up. He stayed over the main support structures, lest he fall through the roof and land on Carissa. He fastened the tarp to each corner of the roof before leaping back down, landing in a crouch.
He entered the cabin and noted with satisfaction that no rainwater was dripping through. Carissa remained huddled in the position he’d left her, and he felt a sharp pinch beneath his ribs.
Tonight could go a number of ways, and his foresight remained too murky to tell him which. Part of it was because of Carissa and the choices she was likely to make. But most of it was because his emotions were beginning to cloud his judgement. In truth, this particular night had always been hard for him to foresee.
He felt a strange clash of heat and cold within him. Unsure what to do, he turned toward the fireplace. He shuffled around the ash a bit before realizing that doing so wouldn’t spontaneously create a fire. “I–I’m going to try and find wood. Dry wood.” Even though it was raining. Had he thought to pack any wood in their packs?
The cabin suddenly felt a bit too small, and Elon abandoned it for the forest.