>The caravan snaked along through the badlands, a plume of dust and grit rising high above to mark it’s slow crawl across the barren landscape.
>I checked my watch for the thousandth time that afternoon, shifting uncomfortably in the back of the battered 6x6.
>15:45
>With a sigh, I ripped off my shemagh, shaking off the dust and wringing the sweat from the coarse fabric.
>”Why do you keep looking at that thing, comrade? Do you have someplace important to be?”
>I glanced over at Anatoly, a fellow merc assigned to guard the caravan with me.
>We were sitting side by side, leaning against the back of the cabin as we wound through the rocky canyons.
>He was watching me with that same shit-eating grin, making the same joke he made at least once every day.
>”Fuck you, Anatoly,” I replied, trying to suppress my grin as I threw a lazy elbow towards him.
>”This is not so bad, Anon. Try to cheer up, eh?”
>He pulled out a dirty rag and began wiping the dust off of his PKM as he continued.
>”The pay is good, the sun is warm, and there are only two others of our company to split the prize with! Before you know it we will be back in the arms of civilization, drinking and whoring our way thr-“
>”SHIT!”
>The truck lurched suddenly, nearly throwing the both of us as the driver swerved.
>”Suka! Watch where the fuck you are driving!” Anatoly shouted, reaching back to knock his fist against the truck’s rear-view window.
>I laughed as the crazy Russian went from espousing the virtues of patience to berating our driver in a scathing mix of english and his native tongue.
>
>”Hey, at least it looks like there’s some clouds way up ahead. He can drive as badly as he wants if it gets us out of this sun.” I pointed out.
>Wrapping my shemagh back around my head, I slumped back down next to my comrade and pulled the sweat-stained fabric over my eyes.
>”Just wake me up when we get into the shade, ok?” 
>Cradling my rifle, a Sako TRG m10 in .300 winchester magnum, I drifted off into a light sleep.
>
>”...Anon, get up! Something is up ahead, time to do your thing,”
>As soon as I opened my eyes, I realized something was wrong.
>We were stopped.
>Our truck was the lead vehicle in the convoy, and between Anatoly’s PKM and my Sako, we were usually able to drive off whatever threats we might encounter before they had time to engage the rest of the group.
>This time, we were stopped on a downhill slope, the road just a narrow strip clinging to the shoulder of a canyon wall.
>The clouds I had spotted earlier covered the sky in a roiling swarm, and the air felt charged with energy.
>Clearly a storm was coming.
>As I stood up next to my comrade in the back of the truck I could immediately see why the caravan had been called to a halt.
>Further down the road into the canyon, a mad vortex of energy was swirling and pulsating with a purple glow.
>”There is not supposed to be a portal here, right Anon?” Anatoly asked tentatively.
>”No,” I replied as I steadied my rifle on the roof of the cab, cranking my scope up to it’s max 28x magnification.
>Unlike the more permanent portals that existed between earth and fankasia, this one looked far more volatile.
>Sparks shot from the edges of the distant display, thin tendrils of electricity occasionally reaching down to connect it with the ground.
>It’s surface seemed to ripple and crackle with a life of it’s own, pulsing rapidly before finally winking out of existence with a flash of light.
>
>It looked like nothing so much as a smaller version of the portals that had ripped across the world during the convergence.
>I scoped the area around where the portal had been, but there didn’t seem to be any tracks on the dusty ground.
>After observing the distant area for another few minutes, I felt fairly certain that nothing dangerous had come through.
>I banged twice on the roof of the cab to let our driver know it was clear, I didn’t have to remind him to proceed with caution.
>Anatoly looked over at me with a shrug as I adjusted my magnification back to it’s lowest setting and slung my rifle over my shoulder.
>The convoy crept forward with the two of us at the helm, standing up in the bed of the 6x6 to watch for trouble.
>Before long, lightning was arcing from cloud to cloud, as if the storm was starting to build in power and intensity.
>Our small convoy pressed onwards, the narrow canyon road opening into a wide draw.
>The air here stank of ozone, and I noticed that the hair on the back of my neck and arms was starting to stand on end.
>Lightning split the air above us without warning, a jagged bolt slamming into the rim of the draw across from us.
>The blast shattered the edge of the cliff, spraying rock everywhere in an explosion of heat and light. 
>I glanced away to protect my eyes from the flash, and as soon as I looked back, I could see one of the erratic portals poised on the edge of the cliff where the bolt had struck.
>”It is some kind of portal storm! We must get to low ground, DRIVE!” Anatoly shouted, slamming urgently on the cab of the truck.
>The convoy accelerated, kicking up dust and grit behind us as we filed down into the draw. 
>More lightning began to flash down around us, rending the ground and leaving crackling portals in it’s wake.
>Our truck swerved out of the way of a large portal in the road as we fled the storm, nearly throwing us out of the bed once again. 
>
>This time neither of us complained, the thought of getting blown apart by lightning or bisected by a portal in the front of everyone’s mind.
>As we rounded a pile of boulders, nearing the bottom of the draw, we came to an abrupt stop. 
>There was an old, burned-out wagon sitting horizontally in the road, barring our path.
>Anatoly and I looked at one another, an understanding of what was about to happen hitting us both like a ton of bricks.
>In our haste to find cover from the portal storm, we had failed to realize that we were driving carelessly into the perfect location for an ambush.
>Now we were stuck along a narrow road that wove through the boulder-strewn draw, we would have to back out one vehicle at a time before we could try to find an alternate route.
>Our driver lay on his horn and threw the massive truck in reverse, starting to slowly back up towards the vehicle behind us.
>Suddenly lightning impacted the ground next to the convoy, a deafening surge of light and noise that stopped us all in our tracks as it split a boulder, leaving a flickering portal where it hit.
>We threw ourselves to the bed of the truck to avoid the blast, and after a brief second we cautiously rose up again.
>Anatoly turned towards me, his mouth open as if he was about to speak, when the first bullet hit.
>It took him cleanly through the left side of his chest, spraying the side of the truck behind him with bright red blood.
>He stood for a second with an incredulous expression on his face as we heard the gunshot echo across the rocky draw, seemingly frozen in time.
>”Ambush!” I yelled, my voice cracking as I watched him drop to the ground like a puppet with it’s strings severed.
>
>More rounds slammed into our truck, and I heard glass shatter towards the front of the vehicle accompanied by a wet gurgling sound.
>I shrugged out of my sling, catching my rifle in my right hand and grabbing my daypack in the left before I threw myself out of the back of the truck.
>Huddling halfway underneath it as more rounds hit the ground around me, I took a second to slip on the backpack and ready my rifle.
>Soon, the other mercs in the back of the convoy started returning fire, drawing attention away and giving me the opportunity to slink around the side of the vehicle.
>Several hundred yards away, I could see our attackers firing from behind boulders.
>I shouldered my rifle, exhaled as I set my crosshairs on the chest of an ambusher, and squeezed.
>My TRG M10 recoiled, and I worked the bold rapidly, jacking a fresh round into the chamber. 
>Realigning my scope with the group of ambushers, I could see the one I’d shot laying sprawled out on the ground.
>I realized with a sudden shock that it was far from human.
>It’s top half appeared roughly normal looking, albeit with scaled forearms and hands ending in sharp looking claws.
>The bottom half of the creature appeared to be that of a giant snake - no legs, just a surprisingly long and muscular serpentine tail.
>I had heard of lamia, of course, but this was my first time seeing them in person.
>I recovered from my shock when I saw another one lean out from behind a boulder, an AK-74 shouldered and aimed towards the rear of the convoy.
>I calmly aligned my crosshair with it’s center of mass and exhaled again, squeezing my trigger and sending another lethal thirty caliber bullet screaming towards our attackers.
>The round punched through the lamia with ease, sending him to join his comrade in death.
>Bullets skipped across the hood of the truck, forcing me to duck back down momentarily. 
>I glanced out around the corner and saw another two lamia advancing towards me, one male and one female.
>
>One was providing covering fire while the other moved, and then catching up while it’s companion covered it in turn. 
>They were moving shockingly fast, far quicker than I would have thought their large, snake-like bodies were capable of slithering.
>I waited until the lamia currently providing covering fire paused his firing, and I leaned out from the side of the truck in a kneeling position.
>The male had timed his covering fire poorly with his companion’s movement, and was frantically changing magazines while the female was caught between cover.
>My first round took her in the head as she raised her rifle to try to engage me, her body going limp and spilling into the dust as the round took her.
>The bolt seemed to glide in my hand, smooth as can be as I chambered another round and aimed at the male lamia.
>He was just pulling up his rifle as he came into my scope, and he squeezed off a quick burst before he died, the rounds going wide and hitting the truck.
>I scanned the rocky landscape for more of them, but it seemed like the bulk of the attack was concentrated towards our flanks.
>A quick glance inside the truck confirmed that our driver was dead, but I could still hear the sound of fighting coming from the rear of the convoy.
>Chambering another round, I shouldered my rifle and ran towards the battle that was still raging.
>The vehicle behind us was abandoned, but when I reached the next truck down in the convoy, I could see that we were fighting a losing battle.
>Two of the other four mercenaries were down, and the remaining two were pinned behind the last vehicle in the convoy with several of the drivers.
>At least five or six lamia were in between us, advancing down the line of vehicles while more provided suppressing fire from the cover of nearby boulders. 
>
>Just as my luck would have it, one of the female lamia noticed me and fired a burst that just barely missed as I threw myself back behind the heavy vehicle.
>More rounds started impacting the frame of the truck, she must have alerted more of them to my presence.
>While there was still time, I slung my rifle across my back and pulled out my pistol, a CZ 75 SP-01 Tactical.
>Carefully keeping the truck in between where I think the lamia would be coming from, I crouched and started moving back towards the front of the convoy.
>I was going to need more firepower than what I had, and Anatoly’s PKM was looking like a good solution to my lamia problem.
>Miraculously I made it to the front of the convoy, our bullet-ridden truck on my right and one of the strange intermittent portals on my left where the lightning had struck.
>No more bullets had come my way, so maybe the lamia were anticipating me laying in wait for them underneath one of the vehicles?
>Whatever the reason, I didn’t have much time before they would figure out where I went.
>I started to lift myself up into the bed of the truck, the PKM within sight, when I heard a soft scrape behind me.
>Reacting instinctively I threw myself off of the truck just as a burst of 5.45 perforated the bed where I had been clambering up.
>I hit the ground at an angle, my CZ 75 flying out of my hand and my left ankle twisting painfully in an unnatural direction as I went sprawling.
>I could see the pistol, laying just a few feet in front of me, right near the edge of the flickering portal.
>A quick look back towards the lamia gave me a glimmer of hope - the burst had emptied her magazine, and she was frantically digging through a leather bag sling over her shoulder to find another one.
>Was she on her last magazine, I wondered?
>Perhaps my luck had finally taken a turn for the better.
>
>She lifted her head to glance down at me, and for a second, our eyes met.
>Hers narrowed, flicking between my sprawled out form and the nearby pistol, as she tried to make a split second decision.
>As I turned to frantically crawl for the pistol, the lamia made her choice.
>With a look of disgust, she threw the bag and AK-74u to the ground, slithering towards me alarmingly fast.
>I scrabbled across the dusty ground towards my pistol, my ankle throbbing, and stretched out my hand.
>Throwing myself forward, I felt the cool metal of the grip brush against my palm, just at the same moment as the lamia reached me.
>With the force that felt like a small car, she dove into me, slamming me into the ground and knocking the pistol from my grasp.
>I rolled to the side, trying to get out from underneath her as she gripped my outstretched hand by the wrist, her other hand closing around my throat.
>I struggled against her, my other hand trying to break her hold on my neck as I realized with a sudden horror that she was noticeably stronger than me.
>The portal crackled and buzzed not a foot behind us, bathing our combat in a fey purple light.
>Her tail twisted around my legs as we wrestled in the dull glow of the portal, further limiting my ability to fight back.
>Realizing that I was running out of time, I released my grasp from her wrist and fumbled with the knife on my belt, a Mercworx Shiva, pulling it free of it’s sheath and thrusting upwards towards her exposed neck.
>She twisted her head backwards and released my other hand just in time to catch my wrist, stopping the blade short by a scant inch.
>I poured all of my strength and will into my arm, trying to force the blade up into her throat, but her grip was like iron.
>
>Spots were starting to dance in front of my eyes as she began to uncoil from my legs, rearing up as she held me by the neck and wrist.
>My feet left the ground as she lifted me up, and I knew that this was not a fight I could win.
>She was simply too quick, too strong.
>The world started to take on a strange, third-person quality as my consciousness grew dimmer and dimmer.
>Her otherwise pretty face was set in a snarl, with slightly longer-than-human canines and big lavender eyes with vertical snakelike pupils.
>The combination of her olive skin, dark hair, and high cheekbones gave her features an almost mediterranean cast, which suited her lean and muscular physique well.
>Definitely the sort of woman I would have spared a second glance for, had we passed one another on the street.
>At least I’ll have something pretty to look at before I die, I thought with a detached sense of amusement.
>My arm which she had released to grab my knife hand dangled limply at my side, and it brushed against something cold and hard on my belt.
>Something I always kept for this exact type of situation.
>Just because I was going to lose, didn’t mean that she was going to win either.
>With a smirk, I thumbed the pin out of the grenade, and dropped it onto the ground next to us.
>The lamia glanced down, her eyes going wide with shock as she realized what I had done.
>With barely a second to act, she crouched down, coiling her tail underneath us as if it was a spring, and launching backwards, throwing us both into the maw of the flickering portal.
>
>There was a split second of vertigo, and then I found myself tumbling down a snowy hillside in a tangled mess of lamia tail, rifle sling, and backpack.
>We let go of one another instantly, and I gasped as the cold hit me like a semi truck.
>Like jumping into a freezing cold pool, the abrupt change in temperature made it nearly impossible to think, my mind numb as if I was in shock.
>Finally we came to a stop, my already injured ankle now searing with pain.
>I lay still for a moment, sucking in the frigid air and wondering how I was still alive.
>As I opened my eyes, I realized I was still clutching my knife, and somehow miraculously managed to avoid impaling myself with it during our fall down the steep slope.
>I could hear the lamia laying next to me, breathing heavily, coils of her tail draped over my chest and legs.
>I glanced over at her just as she turned her head to look at me, and for a second our gazes met.
>Oh FUCK!
>Shoving her coils off of me, I lurched backwards, only managing to stand halfway before toppling over again into the snow.
>I scrambled backwards despite the pain in my ankle, brandishing the knife at her.
>Surely she must be about to spring at me, to resume our death struggle and finish me off.
>I sat there for a few seconds, knife outstretched toward her, hand shaking perhaps from the adrenaline or maybe just the cold.
>She made no move to attack, as thoughts whirled through my mind.
>Was this some sort of trick?
>I still had my rifle slung over my shoulder, so trick or not it was time to roll the dice.
>As fast as I could, I let the knife fall from my hand, gripping my rifle and swinging it up into my shoulder, muzzle aimed directly at her chest.
>I disengaged the safety, a giddy feeling starting to rise up within me as I realized I finally had the upper hand.
>
>Still, the lamia made no movement, staring at me blankly.
>Wait, were her cheeks wet?
>Sure enough, tears were welling up within her big lavender eyes, sliding silently down her face in icy rivulets.
>I suddenly felt confused and self-conscious, as if I was seeing something private that I wasn’t supposed to be seeing.
>I hesitated, unable to pull the trigger for the first time in a long career of mercenary work.
>”Go ahead. Do it.”
>Her voice shocked me out of my lull, a smooth sounding mezzo with a hint of an accent I couldn’t quite place.
>”Shoot me and let’s be done with this, merc. I’d rather not drag this out.”
>She must have noticed the confusion that played across my features, because she started to laugh bitterly, her sarcastic expression contrasting with the almost musical quality of her laughter.
>”...You mean you haven’t realized?” She smirked at me, her expression as frigid as the snowy ravine we were sitting in.
>”Look at the portal.”
>I raised an eyebrow at her, rifle still leveled at her chest.
>The lamia rolled her eyes, clearly becoming more agitated by the second.
>”I’m not trying to deceive you, merc. The portal is gone.”
>Gone...
>The portals had been unstable, did the two of of us going through use up it’s energy or something?
>Did portals even work like that?
>This time I tore my eyes away from her, my gaze following the disturbance in the otherwise pristine snow caused by our tumble down the snowy hillside.
>The path ran halfway up the steep hill, terminating suddenly where we must have appeared when the erratic portal had dumped us out.
>The portal, however, was nowhere to be seen. 
>Just an empty, snow covered ravine, strewn with pine trees and the occasional boulder.
>The muzzle of my rifle dipped nearly to the ground, all the fight leaving me like a deflating balloon.
>
>I tried to take a step backwards, but another jolt of white-hot pain shot up my ankle and it buckled under my weight, dropping me roughly to a knee.
>”No. No, don’t you dare!”
>I looked up to find the lamia now nearly hysterical, fresh tears leaking down her cheeks.
>”Fate favored you, we are somewhere your kind can survive and mine cannot. Now SHOOT ME and be done with it!”
>Suddenly it was my turn to laugh.
>”You think I can survive in this?! It must be ten  below, and we’re in the middle of nowhere. Even if my ankle wasn’t completely fucked, I would still be dead before nightfall,” I snapped back at her.
>”I would much rather choose the manner of my own death than meekly accept whatever life deals out to me.” 
>She turned her head away dismissively, clearly upset and trying to keep it together.
>Setting my rifle down beside me, picked up my knife and re-sheathed it before rummaging through my small daypack.
>I found the hoodie I had stuffed in the bottom and shrugged into it.
>It would be woefully inadequate to keep me from freezing to death, but it was better than just a t-shirt and shemagh.
>Especially if I was going to spend my last moments bickering with a moody lamia, which seemed pretty likely at the moment.
>I glanced over at her, and it seemed as if she was calming down a little.
>Or perhaps the cold was already starting to get to her.
>Her clothing was even less suited to the frigid climate than my own.
>A short linen skirt draped around her hips where her torso joined with her snake-like lower body, and what was essentially a leather bra joined between her breasts by a silver ring was all she wore.
>An intricately made belt of matching leather with a few small pouches, a pair of silver armbands, and a matching torq around her neck completed her ensemble.
>The outfit showcased both her natural curves and her athletic physique, and I found my eyes playing across the dusky skin of her exposed abdominal muscles.
>
>I wondered if perhaps she was cold blooded, or if the sizable length of her tail made it too difficult to keep her body warm in a snowy environment.
>Either way I wasn’t about to ask.
>Just as I was about to look away, she caught me stealing a glance and re-engaged, a resigned note to her voice this time.
>”So that’s it then? You’ll force me to die from the cold instead of a bullet? I thought you mercenaries were supposed to be bloodthirsty killers. Pathetic.”
>”Shut up, snake.”
>”Fuck you, merc.”
>The irony that even after all this, I was still going to die ‘fighting’ with a lamia wasn’t lost on me.
>I sighed, and gazed down the length of the snow-covered ravine for a few minutes.
>It looked like after several hundred yards, it opened up into a snow-covered pine forest surrounding a big frozen lake.
>Pretty scenery, if nothing else.
>I noticed that I was starting to shiver uncontrollably now, the temperature dropping as the sun sunk lower towards the snowy peaks on the horizon.
>The landscape looked serenely beautiful, pristine and untouched by man.
>As my eyes played across the frozen shoreline, something caught my attention.
>It almost looked like there was something tucked into the pines on the other side of the lake...
>My heart started to hammer in my chest as I tried to keep my hopes down, to save myself from inevitably being dissapointed.
>I flopped down prone, ignoring the cold and grabbing my rifle.
>It seemed like the March 4.5-28x52 scope had held up through both my scuffle with the lamia and our fall down the hillside, as I hurriedly wiped the snow out of the sunshade on the objective end.
>”W-what is it?” The lamia asked, teeth starting to chatter from the cold.
>I ignored her and peered through the optic, searching the treeline for the spot that had stood out.
>
>As soon as I could see clearly, my hopes were confirmed.
>Nestled amongst the pines, just a short walk from the lake, was an old looking wooden cabin with a little stone chimney.
>The thick trees did an excellent job concealing it, and it seemed abandoned with no tracks anywhere within sight.
>I sat up, turning to face the lamia, unable to hide the grin growing across my face.
>”It’s a cabin! Out past the lake, on the other side. No more than a couple miles,”
>A calculating look passed across her face, and I noticed she was now shivering violently with both her arms crossed over her chest.
>”G-good. You’ll be able to s-s-survive. After you give me a c-clean death.”
>Instead of angry or upset, she looked as if she was being brutally honest, a miserable 
>”We’ve been over this already. Besides, as much as I hate to admit it, I probably won’t be able to get all the way down there without help.”
>I gestured to my bad leg.
>”Why not work together, and maybe we can both get out of here alive?” I reasoned.
>“I c-could never m-make it that far, I lose heat too f-fast.”
>There had to be something I could do, if this lamia gave up now then we were both as good as dead.
>”You’re not afraid to die fighting, but freezing to death frightens you?” I asked, wracking my mind to come up with something, anything that could get us out of here.
>”It’s c-complicated. I w-wouldn’t expect a h-human to understand.”
>Her lavender eyes were locked on mine, a sad, imploring look written on her features that was unexpectedly hitting me right in the feels.
>”P-please...”
>Damnit.
>Enemy or not, this shit was breaking my heart.
>I grabbed my day pack and started digging through it again, eventually giving up and dumping out the sparse contents.
>A small medical kit, a headlamp, some spare magazines, an extra shemagh, a pair of MREs and a small bottle of vodka I had won from Anatoly playing dice.
>
>I had an idea, a long shot perhaps, but it was better than nothing.
>”Ok, fine. You don’t want to freeze to death, I can at least give you that much. Come over here,” I asked, as I pulled out my knife.
>A look of half relief, half apprehension flashed across her features, but the lamia did as I bid and slithered over in front of me.
>I glanced up at her for a second before taking the blade and slicing open both of the MREs.
>”Last m-meal?” She asked, with a hint of a smile.
>”Something like that, yeah.”
>I dug through them until I found both chemical heaters, filling each with a bit of water from my canteen and setting them aside.
>I unwound the shemagh from my neck, feeling as though the chill temperature was now that much worse.
>As soon as the heaters started to steam, I wrapped each one in a shemagh while the lamia looked on with a curious expression.
>I stuffed everything else back into the pack, except for the vodka.
>That, I uncorked and took a swig of, barely managing to get it down as it burned my throat before tossing it into the lack with the rest.
>Using my rifle to steady myself, I grabbed the wrapped MRE heaters and shakily stood, trying to keep pressure off my injured leg.
>I thrust the heaters towards her, which were starting to warm up quite nicely by now.
>”Tuck one of these under each arm. It won’t be enough to keep you from freezing, but it should keep your core warm enough while we’re moving to keep you going.”
>She started to object, but I cut her off as I stripped out of the hoodie and held that out towards her as well.
>”This too. Trust me, I’m not being chivalrous here. I can barely walk, I’ll never reach the cabin on my own.”
>I expected a rejection, or at least a sarcastic remark, but she merely nodded.
>Slinging my pack and rifle onto my back, I took a tentative step towards the opening of the ravine, but my ankle buckled immediately.
>
>I started to fall, but the lamia quickly reached out a hand and caught me by the arm.
>She hauled me over to her side, still surprisingly fast despite the cold.
>”C-come on, merc. Let’s go.”
>Cautiously I wrapped one hand around her hips, leaning against her for support as she held an arm around my shoulders.
>The feel of her scales under my hand was surprising, I had expected them to be rough but they were both soft and smooth, if a bit cool to the touch.
>Her slithering, slowed due to the cold, seemed a good match for my stride as we set off through the snowy ravine.
>It was slow going, and by the time we made it out into the trees the sun was already sinking below the mountains.
>The temperature was starting to drop more rapidly now, but the combination of the chemical heaters, the hoodie, and the movement seemed to be enough to keep her from shivering as violently as she had been before.
>I lost myself in a daze of stumbling through the snow, putting my good foot forward and the catching up with my weak one, one half-step after another.
>It was agonizingly slow, but aside from a brief stop to dig out the headlamp, we had made it to the shore of the frozen lake by dark.
>As we neared the ice, she hesitated, coming to a stop along the shoreline.
>”I d-don’t think I’ll be able to move across that, we’ll have to go around.” 
>I nodded, not wanting to waste any extra effort on speaking.
>The cold was starting to take a toll on me, even the exertion of moving not enough to combat the oppressive chill.
>I was shivering just as badly as she had been earlier, and an unearthly tiredness was starting to cloud my judgement.
>
>We pressed on relentlessly, and after what felt like an eternity, we reached the small cabin.
>The lamia was sluggish to the point of barely being able to move, and I had never felt so tired in my life.
>It had seen better days, but at least the small log structure looked sound.
>A heavy wooden door flanked by two small windows comprised the face of the building, the door being secured with a simple iron latch.
>All this was tucked inside a small porch, built from the same rough logs that made up the rest of the structure.
>With the lamia still helping to support me, we made our way to the door, where I lifted the latch and swung it open.
>It appeared to be a single-room affair, with a stone fireplace directly opposite us, and a pair of bunk beds set against the wall on our left, with what looked like a closet between them. 
>On the right was a circular table with four chairs, a pantry, and what looked to be mostly empty shelves built into the wall.
>It was rustic, but it would certainly do.
>Most importantly, there was enough firewood stacked beside the fireplace to easily last us through the night.
>Wordlessly, we shared exhausted smiles, as I dumped my pack and rifle and began stacking kindling in the fireplace.
>Once it was ready, I pulled myself up using the mantle and saw what I’d hoped to find there: a book of matches.
>It took a few tries with my shaking fingers, but eventually I got one to light and transferred the flame to some of the small twigs.
>In seconds the flames were crackling as they raced across the dry wood and the fire started to grow.
>
>Satisfied that the fire would sustain itself for a bit, I turned to find that the lamia had dragged two of the small mattresses out into the center of the room and pushed them together, so as to be as close to the fire as safely possible.
>She was coiled directly in the center, eyes closed and breathing softly.
>The fireplace was putting out a commendable amount of heat, but it was still bitterly cold outside and only warm in comparison.
>I stumbled over to the closet between the bunk beds, hoping to find some warmer clothing, but as my luck would have it there was only a single musty blanket inside.
>I grabbed it, intending to curl up underneath it on the edge of the mattresses next to the fire, but looking at the lamia coiled up next to the fireplace changed my mind. 
>Perhaps uncharacteristically, I draped it around her instead.
>She did seem to struggle more with the cold, and it would be warm in here soon enough.
>I threw another couple logs onto the fire for good measure, and then sat down on the edge of the mattresses to watch the flames as they slowly radiated heat out into the room.
>It was almost hypnotic, and before long I was fighting to keep my eyes open as my exhaustion finally won out.
>I leaned backwards, resting my head and letting sleep overtake me.