The Long 7 Days

The wilderness awakened under a blanket of frost, each tree shimmering with ice as the first rays of sunlight stretched across the land. Alex stirred in his bedroll, still heavy with exhaustion from the previous day's climb. The smoke he had seen at the base of the northern ridge lingered in his mind like an ember, sparking curiosity and wariness.

Today, his father planned to work on processing the remaining moose hide, a task that would take most of the day. Alex saw this as his opportunity to return to the ridge and investigate further, but he knew he needed to tread carefully. James had always taught him that people in the wilderness were unpredictable. Sometimes they were allies; other times, they were threats.

After a sparse breakfast of smoked venison, Alex packed his gear. His knife was sharpened, his bow strung, and his quiver stocked with arrows. He tied a bundle of supplies—firestarter, dried meat, and his notebook—and slung it over his shoulder. James was seated by the fire, a curved blade in hand as he scraped the last remnants of flesh from the moose hide.

"I'm heading back to the ridge," Alex announced, his tone casual but purposeful.

James didn't look up from his work. "To scout or to investigate?"

"Both," Alex admitted, tightening the straps of his pack. "I want to know more about the clearing. About the smoke."

James finally met Alex's gaze, his eyes sharp and searching. "You're drawn to the unknown, Alex. That's not a bad thing, but it's a dangerous thing. You don't know who—or what—you'll find out there."

"I'll stay hidden," Alex assured him. "I won't make contact unless I have to."

James nodded after a moment, though the tension in his expression didn't ease. "Mark your trail. And remember, the wilderness doesn't just test your skill—it tests your judgment."

The trek back to the ridge was familiar now, the terrain etched into Alex's memory. The air was cold and still, the forest blanketed in silence except for the crunch of his boots on the snow. He moved with practiced ease, his senses tuned to the rhythm of the wilderness.

When he reached the ridge, Alex found the climb easier than the first time, his muscles more accustomed to the effort. The sun was high by the time he reached the summit, its light casting long shadows across the frozen landscape. He scanned the clearing below, his heart quickening as he spotted the faint wisp of smoke once more.

The fire was still there. So were they.

Alex descended carefully, sticking to the shadows of the trees as he approached the clearing. His footsteps were light, his body low to the ground as he moved. The closer he got, the more he began to notice—tracks in the snow, faint and scattered, and the distant murmur of voices carried on the wind.

He crouched behind a cluster of bushes at the edge of the clearing, his breath shallow as he peered through the branches. The scene before him was simple but telling: a small camp consisting of a makeshift lean-to, a firepit surrounded by stones, and a few scattered belongings. Two figures moved around the camp, their faces partially obscured by hoods and scarves.

They looked lean but not malnourished, their movements purposeful and efficient. One tended to the fire, adding small logs and stirring the embers, while the other inspected a bundle of snares, their hands deft as they checked each loop and knot. Both were armed—one had a bow slung across their back, the other a hatchet at their side.

Alex observed for a long time, studying their behavior and trying to piece together who they might be. Hunters, perhaps, or wanderers like himself. They didn't appear to be a large group, but their presence here was significant. The northern ridge was remote, far from any established routes or settlements. Whatever had brought them here, it wasn't by chance.

A sudden snap of a branch underfoot made Alex freeze. His heart leapt as one of the figures turned sharply, their hand moving to their weapon. The other followed suit, their eyes scanning the forest with a predator's intensity. Alex cursed himself silently, holding his breath as he melted further into the shadows.

"Did you hear that?" the taller of the two asked, their voice low but audible.

"Could've been anything," the other replied, though their hand stayed on their hatchet. "Fox, maybe. Or something bigger."

"Stay alert," the taller one said, their tone firm. "We're too exposed here."

The two figures exchanged a glance before moving closer to the fire, their postures tense. Alex waited, his muscles coiled like a spring, until the pair seemed to relax again. He knew it was time to leave—he had learned all he could without risking discovery.

Marking his position in his notebook, Alex began the slow retreat back toward the ridge. He moved with painstaking care, every step deliberate to avoid making noise. When he finally reached the ridge's summit again, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

The journey back to camp felt longer than usual, his mind racing with possibilities. Who were these people? What were they doing so far from any known territory? And most importantly, were they friend or foe? Alex replayed the scene in his head, analyzing every detail he could remember—their weapons, their demeanor, their apparent readiness for trouble.

By the time he returned to the shelter, the sun was dipping low on the horizon, casting the forest in shades of amber and gold. James was waiting by the fire, his expression unreadable as Alex approached.

"Well?" James asked, his tone expectant.

"There are two of them," Alex began, dropping his pack and sitting by the fire. "They've set up a small camp in the clearing. Armed, cautious, but they don't seem hostile—at least, not immediately."

James nodded, his jaw tightening. "And they didn't see you?"

"No," Alex said firmly. "I kept my distance."

For a long moment, James was silent, staring into the flames. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured. "People come to the wilderness for all kinds of reasons. Some are running from something. Others are chasing it. Whatever brought them here, it's not our concern unless they make it our concern."

Alex frowned, his curiosity far from satisfied. "Shouldn't we find out more? What if they're a threat?"

James shook his head. "A threat doesn't need to know you exist to be dangerous. The best defense is staying invisible."

That night, as Alex lay in his bedroll, the faces of the two strangers filled his thoughts. The wilderness had always felt like his domain, a place where he could test himself and grow. But now, it felt smaller, less certain. The presence of others complicated things, adding a layer of unpredictability to an already unforgiving environment.

Alex closed his eyes, his mind racing with unanswered questions. Who were they? Why were they here? And what would happen if their paths crossed again?

For the first time in a long while, Alex felt the stirrings of something he hadn't experienced since leaving the safety of the town with his father years ago.

Unease.