While the others discussed routes up the mountain, how to avoid rockfalls and steer for the gentle spine, Mara went to the lake. Somewhere a turtle splashed. She waded in, but her feet raised muck from the bottom, so she waited for it to settle before filling the pot.

The fire had dwindled overnight and the coals were low; it took some time for the water to heat up. Mara pushed coals around the pot until flames licked every side. Once it had boiled, she lifted the sizzling pot with a branch and dipped it back in the lake to cool it. It sent up a hiss of steam. Kyle and Bullfrog drank their fill, and she did it all again.

It wasn’t much water to go on for the day, for any of them. Mara figured they were already dehydrated. In fact, now that she thought more about it, the whole mountain plan seemed unnecessary, and she half regretted encouraging Ashley to take the pot. If she’d known yesterday that they’d be splitting up, she could have burned out a wooden bowl to store drinking water in camp, too.

Hubbub as the crew prepared. Cameras were hoisted; batteries switched out. Lenny filmed James and Ashley talking as if the trip had been their idea.

“I have a hunch,” said James. “Call it intuition. I saw that mountain and I thought: there’s gonna be strawberries up there. And probably a whole lot.”

“If we pick enough,” Ashley told the camera, “it’ll make a big difference for us. We can dry them and store them long-term.”

“We want to provide for our team,” said James.

Then they left with the pot and Lenny followed and everything was still after that.

Mara considered her options for the morning. She could go back and harvest more nettles, whose stinging hairs were weak this early in the year. If she scraped the stems with bits of bark, they could even be eaten raw, and she could dry plenty of leaves for tea. Bullfrog would work on the shelter, and Kyle would whatever, and when the others came back from the mountain they’d have a meal of berries and tea and stalks.

But first things first. Mara went to the fire and found the smoothest ashes and dabbed them on her face. Something to block the sun at least, and keep the burn from getting worse. On second thought, she took another handful of ashes and rubbed them into her arms and legs. The ashes were white, almost feathery, and melted like velvet into her skin, casting her limbs a pale gray.

She sensed that someone was near her, watching and filming, but she didn’t look up. What had Lenny said about continuity? If they changed their appearance, it needed to be on film. Well, she thought, here I am, turning gray. Knock yourselves out.

A pair of legs, leather boots, walked past her, and something fell to the ground at her side. As if by instinct, Mara stretched and shifted, putting her hand over the object. It was a twig, smooth and pale. Birch.