Chance Munro awoke to the
brisk chill of the morning air, compliments of Mammalandia's northern
climes. The sun, just above the horizon,
was providing plenty of light but almost no warmth. Brack was already up and about preparing
breakfast. The aroma was familiar to
Chance. He'd grown up with it. "My mother used to fix me oat cereal in
the mornings when I was a boy. I can
still hear her humming by the wood stove."
Chance, unaware, was smiling.
"I'll get the coffee started."