It took a fair while for Inteachán to gather enough of the dry weed to create what she hoped would be a decent fire. Eventually she was satisfied and so she set her things down where she could find them and kneeling beside the vegetation Inteachán opened her tinderbox and began.

The spark lived briefly and then died in the darkness and had there been anyone else underground as well they would have been instantly forgiven had they not noticed what Inteachán was doing so faint was the flash from the flint in the vastness of the cavern.