She longed. He grabbed his bow and arrow, glanced at her, smiling worried. He left her again, bent forward as if he was trying to break the dark winter day, heading for the winter hunt.

She lay down among the furs to wait. She held tightly around a fur, pretending it was a living being to comfort herself. She closed her eyes and felt the longing. Suddenly she knew why. It was not here on the plateau she belonged, she was homesick. Her anchor was at sea. She should have married a fisherman.

Submitted to Friday Fictioneers.

Based on the following photo prop: