The way the fish swim upstream you’d think they didn’t understand nature. But it is the opposite of that. They want to live, to thrive even, against the current. 

The same could be said for Warren. He had lived in these lands his entire life. He could have left for an easier life, could have gone with others who gave up on this place. But it was his home. He knew how to hunt, and to fish. He could build basic things if he could acquire the right tools. And so the cold did not bother him as he left his one bedroom cabin, a light fire still burning in the fireplace on this cold October morning. The first snows would come soon, so today’s task required replenishing the food supply. Time to pick whatever was left in the garden, then head out for meat. The deer should still be around now, and if not the smaller animals would have to suffice. He hated squirrel stew, but sometimes it tasted like life. He closed the cabin door and headed out into the woods, his rifle slung over one shoulder. He stopped and looked around sensing something, but moved on a few seconds later. 

There were indeed eyes watching him from every corner of the forest. Predators waiting for the right moment, to attack, or to scavenge from his treasure. But Warren had always stopped them before, with traps, or gunshot, and they watched , waiting, for him to let his guard down. Winter was coming. They knew the pattern of the world, they could wait.