Jaime started awake with a jolt. He'd been restless the whole night, nerves on edge, feeding and tending his fire.
There was plenty of dead wood around, the trouble was finding dead wood that was also dry. Every time he'd tried to sleep he'd jerked awake, sure that the fire was dying.
If he could have just thrown a few more branches on and left them to burn, perhaps he could have rested,
but he'd already learnt the hard and cold way that he had to constantly tend the fire to keep it alive.
Throwing wet wood straight on put it out, so he had to stack branches near enough the flames to dry out before they could be fed to them, and quickly replace them with new ones.
A lot of the wood was rotten, which helped it to dry but it burnt badly.
Try as he might, he could not persuade a big enough blaze to catch to let it burn for long enough without burning down that he could shut his eyes.
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