With the cold weather advancing southward, Emmett and Jake thought it a bitter joke that now, more than ever, they were NOT welcome at the castle that could have provided shelter. At least they knew that Trinity would keep the Gunslinger Steakhouse running smoothly in their absence; and she could phone Copperfox if she had questions.
Cowboy range-survival experience now kicked in. Before long, the brothers had their horses unburdened and rubbed down, a lean-to built, their bedrolls inside it, and a campfire going. Under some circumstances, they might have postponed the fire as long as they dared, to avoid giving away their position; but as it was, they had no doubt they could be located by magical tracking anyway. With a fire, they could cook the fish that Emmett had speared from a stream. Besides the fish, they had a package of hardtack with them: something they had tried introducing at the restaurant, with limited success.
After they had eaten, they inspected their weapons, did what they could for the horses' comfort, and settled down to wait out the storm. To pass the time, they very quietly played a word game which, as they had learned, Copperfox used to play with his Janalee to keep her mind stimulated on long highway trips:
"Horse." "House." "Mouse." "Moose." "Loose." "Lose." "Hose." "Chose." "Choke." "Chore." "Shore." "Share." "Shark." "Spark." "Spar." "Star." "Stare." "Stale." "Tale." "Tall." "Stall." "Still." "Spill." "Pill." "Hill." "Hall." "Halt." "Malt." "Salt." "Silt." "Silo." "Solo." "Polo." "Pole...."