"We'll stop just ahead, there's a small ledge that juts over the path." He turned back when she swore, and moved to help her. Rather than try to inspect her knee in the fading light, though, he just knelt and lifted her entirely, carrying her pack and all up to the spot a few hundred feet on. He let her down, then swung his pack to the ground and knelt to dig out the tightly packed tent. It turned out to actually be a canister of some sort, made out of dull, tarnished metal. He set it down and held down a button on top for a few seconds, then stepped back a ways as it beeped softly and unfolded. Struts expanded, with sturdy yellow material between each one, and within a few seconds the tent had built itself up. Markings on the side, stenciled by machine in ages past, identified it as 'PROTOTYPE ALL-WEATHER SHELTER MK. 973-2.0 -- MILITARY USE ONLY'.<br/><br/>He took a moment to move to the base of each strut and used his hatchet to hammer the spikes into place so that their shelter wouldn't be blown away, then ushered her inside along with their packs. The interior was already warmer than the exterior, and a small half-sphere light sat in the middle of the floor, casting even illumination across the entire tent. "We should be able to risk heating our meal tonight," he said quietly, rummaging through his pack once more to retrieve the cans and a hot plate. "I think the blankets are in your pack--but wait, how's your knee? You didn't do any real harm, did you?"