The Igloo

Outside the igloo he waited for an invitation to come inside. There was no knocker, no doorbell. He coughed, there was no reply. He crouched down and peered in. He felt the warm air from a fire pat his cheeks and ruffle his hair. Hello he said quietly and repeated it. The frost in his toes urged him in, so did the pain in his gut. His knees one by one welcomed the snow and brought him into the warmth. He stood up and breathed deeply. He held a foot up to the flames then swapped it for the other foot. He lay down on the polar bear rug but a smell yanked him upright again and led him to a dresser of  bone where a bowl sat with a cover on it. He lifted this to reveal dried meat. He grabbed a chunk and tore at it with his teeth. It was reindeer. He devoured all that was in the bowl and went looking for some more. He found none, but there was a bottle of firewater which he swigged. He swigged again and left it down. He lay on the bearskin and fell asleep.