The finishing touches of tinder were laid to rest beneath the small cauldron by slender, sooty hands. Ready to be lit, the campfire would provide a small flame for dinner and warmth through the night for what Ezra hoped would be a good night's rest. They'd been traveling non-stop now, searching tirelessly through the peninsula for any sign that Fiora might be there. Alas, it came to no avail and Ezra found that he'd have to put his search of the outreach to a stop. There were only so many places that she could be here, and if she wasn't? Well, he'd have to make better work on the mainland. The uneasy feeling that the flowers that plagued the coastline and the stories that followed their short existence there possibly taking Fiora churned in his stomach.
Turning to rid his mind of the foul thought, he pulled the flint from the cart and made his way back to the dry wood beneath the pot. A couple of hard strikes and sparks later, Ezra began nursing the first flames of what would be his dinner flame.
The draft horses nipped and preened one another while Bygul took a bath on the cover of the cart, one long, white leg high in the air as he cleaned it. Ezra moved back to sit on a felled trunk backed by a tall standing tree and leaned his head back to take a few restful breaths. Once the fire warmed the pot, he could add the water and start cutting the rabbit and a add a few things for flavor. It looked like all they had on hand was some potatoes and rice, but that would do just fine. He'd have to make another trip to Amherst for ration replenishment, especially due to the fact that hunting wasn't particularly easy with two horses and a car full of goods. He was lucky to have Bygul, who did his best to bring home birds and rodents that always were added to the pot.
It wasn't long until the heavy scent of a good stew lingered in the breeze,” It smells great, Bygul, my friend,” He grinned at the cat who dropped down from the cart with the smell in the air. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't forgotten about when the time came to hand out the bowls.
Turning to rid his mind of the foul thought, he pulled the flint from the cart and made his way back to the dry wood beneath the pot. A couple of hard strikes and sparks later, Ezra began nursing the first flames of what would be his dinner flame.
The draft horses nipped and preened one another while Bygul took a bath on the cover of the cart, one long, white leg high in the air as he cleaned it. Ezra moved back to sit on a felled trunk backed by a tall standing tree and leaned his head back to take a few restful breaths. Once the fire warmed the pot, he could add the water and start cutting the rabbit and a add a few things for flavor. It looked like all they had on hand was some potatoes and rice, but that would do just fine. He'd have to make another trip to Amherst for ration replenishment, especially due to the fact that hunting wasn't particularly easy with two horses and a car full of goods. He was lucky to have Bygul, who did his best to bring home birds and rodents that always were added to the pot.
It wasn't long until the heavy scent of a good stew lingered in the breeze,” It smells great, Bygul, my friend,” He grinned at the cat who dropped down from the cart with the smell in the air. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't forgotten about when the time came to hand out the bowls.