Word Count :: 500+Sorry for the long pause, I was on vacation last weekend and been working on getting back into the ‘Souls swing in the midst of my busy work week.
The fish was free of its scales in little time thanks to her trained hand. A few simple strokes with the knife down each flank rid the creature of most of its protective layer, and one more pass over the skin made sure there weren’t any hard ridges left to catch in their teeth. She moved on to removing the head, and then the fins, taking time to glance at Denver and the budding fire. The orange flames danced in her gray eyes, making them appear to glow in the evening darkness. “Ah, is good, good fire. Not too big now or feesh vhill burn. Like that is nice.” She nodded and gestured with the hand that was holding her work knife before grabbing the fish head in her other hand. She looked at it for a moment, “It might make nice ornament, but it vhill smell. Better to feed the feesh so we can have great catch later.” And with that she chucked the head back into the bay.
Once it disappeared into the waves with a satisfying splash she started flaying thick strips off meat from bone. “On good terms again?” she asked, catching the meaning behind his words and raising a brow. Her hands worked carefully careful around the rib meat, trying to get as little bone in the meat as she could. Luperci teeth could easily pulverize fish bones but still it was not always a pleasant surprise in your meal. “Vhat are you, a sailor perhaps? Vhy is it ‘on good terms again’? You have story about the sea?”
Her eyes remained trained on the work before her, and she tried to keep her voice monotone but a trained ear could probably detect her deep curiosity. Perhaps the man would tell her his story? Usually good food and a relaxing campfire were enough to bring out people’s more generous nature.
The warmth from the fire had spread now and she could feet the gentle heat on her body. The fish was all cleaned and cut, now they just had to let the flames do their work. Luckily, fish meat didn’t take long to cook.
“I do not have pan to fry with, so we vhill be havingk smoked cod,” she said as she wrapped a few flays around a couple long poles and affixed them with twine. “Cannot let it get too close to fire or string vhill break and then the fish is a gonner. But it vhill smoke quickly.” She moved next to Denver and settled down in the sand next to the fire and angled the rods over the flames, holding them in each hand. There was a good helping of fish affixed to each one, and she held it just high enough for the flames to warm the meat while the smoke flavored it.
“One day I vhill find fryingk pan and vhill make amazingk food. But for now, this is not usually so bad. My father taught me how to do this,” she sighed dreamily as the scent of the sizzling fish brought back warm memories of the time spent with her father. Her eyes fell from watching the campfire to stare sadly at the sand. “I miss him.”
Image courtesy of 24730945@Flickr; table by the Mentors!
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