“Holy—” I start.
“Don't move,” Finn interrupts quietly. “It's a deer, but it could bolt if startled. Those antlers aren't for decoration.”
The creature regards our camp with what seems like mild interest, its large eyes reflecting our fire as it surveys us. Its breath forms clouds in the cold air.
“Is it dangerous?” Elliott whispers, his clipboard clutched to his chest like armor.
“Not usually, but we don't want to spook it,” Finn replies, not taking his eyes off the animal.
The deer takes another step forward, its movements cautious yet graceful. It pauses at the edge of our camp, examining the remains of our dinner with apparent curiosity.
“It's after the food,” Carlos says, camera now raised to capture the moment.
I hold my breath as the animal lowers its head to sniff at our cooking area. It picks up something with its lips—maybe a piece of dropped jerky or a fragment of protein bar wrapper.
“Should we chase it away?” Dave asks, voice trembling.
“Just stay still,” Finn says firmly. “Let it move on naturally.”
For several agonizing minutes, the deer explores our camp with delicate steps. It nudges a pack with its nose, looks directly at Elliott, who visibly pales, and then, satisfied with its investigation, turns and bounds back into the forest with surprising speed and grace.
Collective breath releases around the camp.
“That was...” Elliott starts, then seems unable to find the right word.
“A deer,” Finn supplies helpfully, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Completely normal wildlife encounter. Nothing to panic about.”
“It was huge!” Dave exclaims. “Did you see the size of those antlers?”
“Is it gone for good?” I ask, still scanning the tree line nervously.
“Probably,” Finn says. “Just passing through. The flood likely disrupted its normal routes.”
Elliott's producer instincts kick in despite his lingering fear. “Did we get that on camera? That's gold footage! The celebrity, the wilderness expert, the dangerous wildlife encounter!”
Carlos nods, lowering his equipment. “Got it all. Great composition with the firelight silhouetting the deer.”
I catch Finn's eye and see the subtle eye-roll he can't quite suppress. In the space of five minutes, we've transitioned from potential mortal danger to production opportunity. Elliott's resilience would be admirable if it weren't so annoying.
“Everyone back to sleep,” Finn announces. “We have an early start tomorrow. New route to scout.”
Reluctantly, the crew disperses to their respective tents, excitement gradually giving way to exhaustion. Elliott lingers, glancing between Finn and me with undisguised curiosity.
“You two settling in okay? I could rearrange the assignments if there's a problem?—”
“We're fine,” I cut him off before he can make the situation more awkward. “This works.”
Elliott's smile is too knowing. “Of course it does. Sleep well, you two.”
As we crawl back into our tent, the previous moment of intimacy feels both distant and painfully present. Finn zips thedoor closed, sealing us once again in our private bubble of darkness.
I settle onto my side of our makeshift bed, acutely aware of every movement, every breath. The small tube of sunscreen presses against my hip where I tucked it into my pocket—a physical reminder of the spontaneous kiss that now hangs unaddressed between us.
“Sorry about that,” Finn says, his voice low as he arranges his portion of the blanket. “Deer encounters are common this time of year.”
“Is everything in Alaska trying to kill people, or does it only seem that way?” I ask, aiming for lightness despite the lingering tension.
He settles beside me. “It’s not out to get you. It’s simply … not on your side either.”
