Latest Article|September 3, 2020|Free
::Making Grown Men Cry Since 1992
1 min read
I am a lonely fur trapper in Canada. I subsist, traveling from cache to snow-buried cache. Now I must choose between my recovered leather backpack and the hide and tent poles I’ve been carrying. I reluctantly choose the pack and bury the tent in the same spot. I then begin to dig snow and manure with my leather mittens away from a hidden underground cave entrance. With the entrance fully uncovered, a dark-haired young woman, dressed in fur and appearing from nowhere, defiantly claims her native right to the homestead.