Wintergreen Mushroom

In one of the households of a destroyed village, a mile away from the Military Base, twelve people crowded beneath the cellar, gathering around a flickering bonfire. These people hailed from the village uphill.

Due to their farmlands, they had refused the military's aid and remained behind. Now, they regretted that decision. 

The last of their reserves, the potatoes and sweet potatoes, had been consumed since last week, all their crops destroyed in the flood.

To make matters worse, their original village had been overrun by snakes and rats, driving them to flee to this place.

They had been forty people at first, but the rest had perished while fleeing or succumbed to fever and frostbite.

The cold was unbearable. At this rate, the survivors wouldn't last much longer.

Two women began preparing dinner.

They fetched baskets from the corner and spilled their contents onto the floor.