The NewbornKonta found it hard to believe that Winter was drawing to an end, after all the dangerous situations and stressful nights he had endured during the season. He had begun to believe that he would never live to see the end of the stark white landscape, the bone-chilling days passing by at a glacial pace, or the omnipresent threat of attack that had more than once come to fruition. Yet, reality began to sink in more firmly as Murg started his usual end-of-season march around the encampment and signaled for families to pack up their belongings, only leaving the essential structures like the medical tent and the communal gazebo still standing; those could be quickly disassembled by the tribe and taken on short notice.
Having no tent of his own to deconstruct, Konta busied himself whe
