The next morning, Victor and I make short work of packing up the tent. We send the boys off with a little H20 test kit to see if they can find fresh water, and they come back with a couple of bottles full. We quickly set the water to boil over the rekindled fire and then re-bottle it, slipping it into our backpacks for later use.
Then, ready for our day – and whatever new magical twists it brings – we head out along the trail.
It’s not really much of a trail, though, when I think about. We’re following what can best be described as a little game path, just a small winding clearing between plants in the woods, probably made by the routine travel of deer passing through.
What we’re really following, I suppose, is our instincts.
I sigh. More magic there, probably. I’m not sure I’ll ever g
