“She said she was going to firmly establish contact with Artemis before coming back into this dead zone. Otherwise, her efforts might be for nothing. If she’s gone seven or eight days without sending a message, then I’ll go looking for her. Meanwhile, I’ll mind your camp on one condition. You all need to come out at least once a day and help with some of the chores. I’m an old man and Kipper is just a boy.” Griffin didn’t need to see the twinkle in the old bear’s eyes to know that Bruin was perfectly capable of taking care of everything to do with feeding them and caring for their mounts and camp, even without Kipper’s aid. He knew a price was being exacted for the hunter’s services and did his best not to resent it. As he carried a dirty pot down to the stream, Griffin realized how easily he had slipped back into the privileged mindset in which he had been reared. During his travels with Adara and Terrell, he’d taken pride in doing his best to contribute, even if that meant doing nothing more sophisticated than grooming the horses (Sam the Mule would only accept Terrell) or turning the spit over the fire.
