Sonje by Sie!
The most disappointing thing about smoking the meat would be the length of time it would take to do so. Sonje was a gluttonous girl,overindulging when she could because she was a perpetually hungry individual. It never seemed sated, even when she couldn't take another bite—she always felt like there was room for more, even when there wasn't. This was perhaps due to the lack of luxury and safety in her life, where she'd always been forced to kill and eat as quickly as possible before having to move on (lest she be attacked). Similar to the darker young woman, taste wasn't ever Sonje's main concern, though she appreciated it where available. She nodded when asked if wood should be gathered, as Sonje would be a bit busy skinning and flaying chunks of the pig accordingly.
She paused, though, remembering the old knapsack hung at Jagga's neck that carried but a few tattered supplies (the only ones she had at the time—minus the dagger she'd lost several weeks before) that were: a brush, a holey quilt, flint and three jars, each filled with a different spice. She licked her bloody fingers absently, presumably for the taste, but it slated the angry growls in her stomach as well. When her guest went to fetch a knife, she hopped up at well, rummaging beside her mare in the hanging pack. "Aha!" she exclaimed just as she was returning, and she came from Jagga side, holding a jar in each hand. "Sea salt," she lifted the jar with large white granules, less than half full; "and seasoning," she lifted the second, a jar twice as full with green, red and brown particles, mainly looking to be crushed bay leaves. "I forget sometimes that I still have these—I don't have time to cook often." In fact, it had maybe been a month or more since she'd roasted anything over a fire.
Setting the jars next to the pig, she took the knife with a grateful nod and smile towards her helper, before sitting crosslegged before their meal. She began the swift, meticulous swipes of the good-enough knife, just beneath the coarse coat of the boar, applying appropriate strength to drag the slightly rusted blade through. It was tedious, and messy, but Sonje was quick, mostly quiet, even as her partner was gathering wood. "There's flint in my bag to start the fire, if you need," she offered, waving her towards Jagga, who was still standing nearby, but gazing outside to where the chestnut mare was just out of her sight. The hybrid wasn't particularly concerned with the woman taking anything, as there wasn't anything of particular value to the bag or its contents.
She continued to concentrate on her work, emptying her mind of the confusing thoughts about her guest, and her inexplicably "nice" nature towards her. Why no cutting remark had yet to fall from her usually sarcastic lips was a mystery to her. The pig's head was removed and set aside, along with the bloody length of lead rope that had been lent to her; and she continued skinning the rest of it. "I'm Sonje.. by the way," she added after a long bought of working in silence.