He nodded, smiling a little. "I'll get right on it, then. Just hold tight a second."
He moved around the sled to untie the rope, then rummaged around the pile until he dug out the cookpot. He pulled the dishes out of it, setting them aside, and then set the pot on the ground.
He glanced around the tree line for a moment, and found a tree that looked as though it had fallen some time ago. He drew his sword, and hacked off several branches, and peeled off a good amount of the aged bark to serve as tinder.
He took one of the longer branches, and slid it's length against the sharpened edge of his sword, cutting into it and causing several large splinters to split off along the side. These he tore off, and tossed them and the bark onto a cleared spot on the ground.
He pulled a chunk of flint from a pouch at his belt, and struck it repeatedly against his hunting knife until he got several sparks to settle and remain in the dried tinder. He blew on these until he managed a small flame, and then started piling on the other branches until, a moment later, he had a cheery little blaze going.
Then, the hard part - finding water. It did seem as though some snow melt had soaked the earth before. All he had to do was pull it from the earth. He found a softened spot on the ground, sending a small vein of groundwater beneath.
The purple bands in his eyes began to flare to life as he willed the water upwards, pulling it up with a rupturing of the soft ground. As it lifted into the air, several particles of earth and rock fell from it, unaffected by his power.
Gaelio willed this large orb of water toward the cookpot, and it began spilling into the pot as if dumping from a large pitcher. Breathing hard, he then carried the pot to set it on the fire.
He sat down heavily, sweating a little. "Water usually isn't hard to move, but the earth around it is so damned heavy..."
