First we Feast!

The next morning, Whiskey-Jack awoke to an unexpected sight. His mother was home, though he couldn't quite remember when she had returned.

He had fallen asleep immediately after his conversation with Muskrat,

"I must have slept the whole day away," Whiskey-Jack thought, rubbing his eyes in confusion.

After feeling like he hadn't slept in a couple days, the long rest cleared his head, allowing him to think back on the experience. The Creator had asked him to return another time, but that would have mean leaving his family for an extended period, and in these dangerous times, it was out of the question.

Walking out of his room, Whiskey-Jack immediately noticed the family's large wooden table positioned in front of the door.

"This is going to be tough…" he muttering under his breath, trying his best not to wake anyone.

The house was cold, and he knew he needed to add wood to the fireplace. After quietly shifting the table, he slipped outside to the woodpile, feeling the cool air against his skin.

That's when he saw something moving down the camps main path, a figure, small from a distance, but clearly hauling something behind it. As the figure grew closer, he could make out a sled loaded with supplies.

"Dad!" Whiskey-Jack shouted, dropping the wood in his arms as he dashed forward.

He ran towards his father as fast as he could, his legs carrying him across the snow-covered ground. His father stood at the end of the path, his arms wide, waiting to embrace him.

"Whiskey-Jack!" Erwin exclaimed, his deep voice booming with joy. When his son reached him, Erwin enveloped him in a hug, lifting him off the ground.

"I'm so happy to see you," Whiskey-Jack said, feeling safe in his father's embrace.

Erwin stepped back, inspecting his son. "You've been putting on some muscle, I see," he said with a grin.

Though Whiskey-Jack wasn't as large as his father, his frame had grown noticeably stronger from the manual labor he'd been doing in his absence. But Whiskey-Jack's thoughts were consumed by the mystery man he'd encountered. Without missing a beat, he blurted out, "Dad, have you ever heard of someone called, the Creator?"

Erwin froze for a moment, his usual stoic face showing concern at the question. He placed a finger on his chin, deep in contemplation. "I'll tell you what I know… but first," he paused dramatically, "We feast!"