"What are you—"
Oska was about to question what Zeno was doing, but Risa covered his mouth with her hand.
"Shut up," she muttered, having enough of his whining.
The others watched quietly. Moby nudged his shoulder. "Can you really make a fire?"
Zeno nodded.
"With just these things?" Moby added. "Do you want me to look for a lighter so it's easier? I'm sure Oska smokes. He just doesn't want to reveal it," he whispered.
Zeno held out a hand. He could even make a fire in his sleep. He had done it plenty of times that he lost count!
Ryeo crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to hide the fast beating of his heart.
Zeno crouched low to the ground, his face lit only by the miserable glow of the LED flashlights. Aside from that, their surroundings were pitch black. The crew whispered among themselves, wondering if Zeno was just putting on an act.
He eyed the pile of dried leaves he had scraped together. Then, he focused on the two sticks in his hands.
