The footsteps grew louder. A massive green "monster" rounded the corner, moving with difficulty.
Ariel squinted. It wasn't a monster. It was Elvin. He was carrying a mountain of mutated vines on his back. The pile was taller than he was.
He dumped the load onto the ground. A cloud of dust billowed up, making Ariel cough.
Elvin leaned against the wall, his chest heaving. Sweat dripped down his pale face, sliding down his sharp jawline.
Ariel rushed over. She pulled up her sleeve and used the rough fabric to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
Elvin leaned into her touch. He lowered his head slightly, letting her reach him easier. In the depths of his eyes, a glint of smug satisfaction flashed. He had played the weakling perfectly.
Ariel stared at the massive pile of high-quality vines. "How did you carry all this?" she asked, amazed.
Elvin coughed lightly. "Found a landslide," he lied smoothly. "Just rolled them down the hill."
Ariel didn't question it. She pulled him down to sit beside her. She grabbed a sharp stone flake and demonstrated the next step.
She scored the outer bark of the vine with a long, deep cut. Then, she gripped the end and yanked it hard. The rough, spiky outer layer peeled away, revealing the smooth, flexible inner core.
She soaked the cores in a bucket of water to make them pliable.
She picked up a few wet strands. Her fingers wove them together, over and under, in a tight, complex pattern. Elvin watched her hands intently, memorizing every move.
After a few hours of painstaking work, her fingers aching and stiff from the repetitive motion, the first section of a dense, wind-proof woven door curtain finally took shape.
Ariel shook out her sore wrists. She pushed the remaining vines toward Elvin. "Your turn. Try it."
Elvin picked up the strands. His movements were a bit stiff at first, but his logic was flawless. He didn't miss a single weave.
Ariel was shocked by his terrifying learning speed. She leaned in closer to watch his technique.
They were inches apart. Ariel could smell him. Beneath the heavy scent of dust and the sharp tang of sweat from his labor, there was a faint, clean smell, like cold stone or winter air, something entirely different from the foul stench of the other camp members.
Elvin's fingers paused. He turned his head. His deep, intense gray-blue eyes locked directly onto hers.
Ariel's face flushed hot. She coughed awkwardly, breaking eye contact. She quickly started talking about the other things they could make. Baskets. Storage bins. Even shoes.
Elvin listened to her vision of the future-a future with order, warmth, and comfort. The hard line of his shoulders softened.
Ariel stood up. She walked to the center of the square they had marked out. Her expression turned serious.
She turned to face him. "We are building this," she said, her voice low but filled with a fierce, unshakable conviction. "Not just a shelter. A stronghold. A place where we belong."
Elvin put down the vines. He stood up. He walked over to her, his tall frame casting a long shadow over her.
He placed a hand over his heart. It was the highest salute of the silver wolf warriors. He bowed his head slightly.
"I will help you build it," he vowed, his voice deep and resonant. "Whatever you want to build, I will make it happen."
The setting sun cast long, golden rays across the camp. Their shadows stretched out on the freshly turned soil, leaning close together, inseparable.
