Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
Focusing on the task at hand helped. As equilibrium settled back in her, a certain tension bled from her body and returned some of the curiosity. But while she certainly cut the meat however Hadama wished, the rest was still cut into strips and laid out around the fire to cure. It made no sense to waste what could be dried and made to last for weeks. Getting tired of my own words
"What are we making?" she asked, as the aroma of searing mushrooms mingled with that of the mutton. "I'm not very good at cooking, I'm afraid... Boiling and grilling is as good as it gets if I do it." Not for lack of trying; it was one thing she just didn't have a sense for. How Hadama managed to make her mouth water with nothing but a handful of ingredients was a mystery. The same materials that made jerky in her hands was made a feast in his, and she could only shake her head as her stomach churned loudly, reawakening to desires she'd written off as mere necessity. Food was only fuel, a necessary evil to keep the body moving.
To be alive... was supposed to be about more than just surviving, though.
"Hadama? What do you think is the difference between Ancients, and everyone else?"
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
