The nights were getting colder. Within a day or two, it would be too cold to make the journey to the caves on the southern island. Unless they wanted to walk across frozen seas. The prospect did not appeal; the village had to move now.
Anii gathered her family’s firestones from the hearth, the sigils on them banked, but still glowing with faint orange light, and tucked them carefully into her satchel. The Elders would have the communal stone brought along from the calderas of course, but it would be nice to tuck a bit of home’s warmth against their feet at night.