EverythingSings on Nostr: position. "Tomorrow," he tells Zan. "Tomorrow we figure out food." The dog's eyes are ...

position.

"Tomorrow," he tells Zan. "Tomorrow we figure out food."

The dog's eyes are already closing.

He watches the last light fade from the sky, watches the stars emerge one by one in patterns he doesn't recognize. The river sounds different at night—deeper, more rhythmic, almost like breathing.

Something moves in the forest behind him. A crack of branches. A rustle of leaves.

He tenses, but Zan doesn't stir. The dog's breathing stays