Hazel stared at the weapons on the table with wide eyes.

"I seriously don't know how to use any of these." She grabbed the shotgun and a crossbow trying to tell which felt better. "I'll decide upstairs." She grabbed the quiver, slung it over her shoulder, and stuffed her pockets with ammunition. She was glad her she had boots. She was getting cold.

"Oh! The fire! The Tartok might try to smoke us out if we leave it burning." Without waiting for an answer, Hazel dashed away, running for the kitchen. She didn't want to waste time on the sink just in case the pipes were frozen, and she went to the fridge to grab bottled water and anything else she could splash on the fire to put it out. She regretted building it up so much now.