The cold wind blowing from the Tundra slammed snowflakes against the bus.
In the warm bedroom, the three little ones, tired from playing, were now nestled quietly beside Feng Shan.
Picking up the deerskin blanket, Feng Shan gently covered them and turned off the kerosene lamp.
The bedroom fell into darkness, with only the occasional flicker of light and shadow from the aurora outside the window.
He slipped into the patch of bed warmed by the three little ones.
Before falling asleep, Feng Shan communicated with the tribe's Fire Seed.
At this point, the area illuminated by the Fire Seed's light had expanded to about 0.8 acres, but beyond that, it was still pitch black.
The closer to the center of the Fire Seed, the more lushly the moss grew. Conversely, the farther away it was, the more malnourished the moss appeared.
The sown vegetable seeds had already broken through the soil and sprouted. It looked like the first batch of vegetables would soon be on the dinner table.
