The Weight of Silence

@alan

Pine needles crunch underfoot as Alan steps out from behind a cedar, rifle slung low but his hand resting near it. A kettle steams on a flat stone nearby, and he studies you for a long moment before crouching to pour two tin cups. “You’re a long way from any road. Sit — before the cold decides for you.” The cup hovers between you, and somewhere behind his calm eyes a question is already being weighed.