Catskill sat and waited. For the storm to end, for the ponies to rough her up, for Amanita to walk through the door sopping wet. For how long, she neither knew nor cared. None of them happened. Well, maybe the blizzard’s wind died down a little, but it was hard to tell. The fire kept burning and popping. Catskill stayed close to the fire, occasionally adding a log when it needed it. At this point, the fire was the only thing she could depend on.