"So what are y'all thinking?  Shelter or tent?"
 

"Um..actually, we are going to tent inside the shelter."

Each person automatically goes about the various tasks of settling in for the night.  My first task is to get my sleeping bag out and to fluff it up a bit so that it will regain as much of its loft as possible.  The more loft (or space between the fill) the more space for body heat to get trapped in.  Next, I should stretch, but instead I start working on the fire.  But this time, everyone pitches in gathering all kinds of wood.  There are a lot of blow downs at this shelter for some reason and lots of dry wood around.  It takes almost no time to form a hot coal bed and the fire making seems effortless.
 

"Does anybody need any water?" 
 

 "Nope, think we're all set."
 

Viking, Moonshadow, Crumbs and 4-Today are all sitting on fallen logs around the fire preparing their dinners as I slip off down the ridge.  The distant ridges look like pieces of a giant's furniture arranged in long lines with dark drop cloths draped over them.  Above them there is just a sense of red glow in the sky that dark clouds ease lazily across.  I look back to make sure that I have my bearings.  I am always worried that I will take off down a water trail at night and end up on a game run and turn around and nothing will make sense.  And there I will stand, alone with the darkness, without even a raincoat, calling out into the woods and hearing nothing but the sound of a creek in return.  
 

It is always peaceful down by the water.  Sometimes small creatures ploop into the stream, scared by your headlight.  Sometimes there is a pipe sticking out of a hole above a murky pool and water fountains out.  Tonight, the stream just babbles and gurgles along the base of the hills around me, completely unconcerned about how dark or cold it is.  I fill up my container, careful to not brush the sediment below, or to disurb the water with my feet.  The water edges over my Nalgene and slowly fills it.  My hand is submerged in the icy stream.  My eyes slowly wander across my surroundings, trying to make sense out of the shadowy shapes in this nightscape.  I breathe fresh, cool, stream moistened air, and can almost feel the awakening of the most primal part of my brain.  For a moment, I am calm. 
 

Half the way back up the hill, and the shelter glows dull red, turning oranger with each step.  Then voices murmur and splatter with laughter, and finally become distinct.  And I am home.