The cave was silent save for the crackle of the tiny fire and the heavy, slowing cadence of Weijie's breath. Ningning looked at the heap of iron-oak sections.
They sat there, hulking and damp, a promise of warmth that they couldn't yet fulfill.
She couldn't start the kiln tonight.
Her own muscles were screaming, and Weijie was a heartbeat away from total shutdown.
"Doudou, hold the calculations for the enclosure." she whispered. "He needs to eat. I need to think."
[Priority shift acknowledged, Dumpling. His core temperature is 34°C and dropping. He needs calories to fuel the metabolic transition into brumation, even if it's just meat.]
Ningning stroked her chin, did she have any food on hand?
Or should she quickly roast some meat?
[Let's start with water first…]
"Water first." Ningning agreed, her voice a dry rasp.
She reached for the crude clay cup they had fashioned, dipping it into their small water pot to ensure no drop was wasted.
