[PQ] Putting it all on the line

YOU SAID THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE MOON IT ROSE TOO SOON AND WE'RE DOING WHAT WE SHOULD The goldfish make for friendly companions but are not the company Amalia seeks. With warm affection she gently coaxes them to leave the tank behind, before once again reaching out in attempt to coax dreamfish awake. She won't try for long if this attempt fails- she'd hoped she might avoid swimming, and if she must dive down for them she'd rather do so after their other tasks are complete. So successful or not Amalia will leave the water behind for now, letting it drip off her otter's coat and going to tend to the fire. Ama makes one more attempt at dreamfish, then goes to sit by the fire a m a l i a You said it's life that moves too much We're losing touch But I'm not losing you

Of the small group, she might be the least dedicated to her task, easily discouraged as she finds the usual places already emptied of the necessary plant. The entertainer bites her bottom lip and frowns a bit, trying to see if there’s any left in the area. Lily is unwilling to venture much further if it’s just going to be a bust. And unfortunately for her - or Jigano, perhaps - she decides to head back to the fire, empty-handed.

Maybe she’ll have better luck fishing. Or getting the smoke going? However, upon the redhead’s return, she finds Amalia already at the fire and the men out on the ice, and she has an obvious preference for whom she’d like to sit with. Joining the other woman, Lily flashes a smile at her and then starts trying to set up something above the flames where they can hang or stack or skewer the fish without them catching on fire - which seems to be well on its way to dying down enough.

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Lily joins Amalia and starts to try and build something to smoke da fishiessss

”That’s the plan,” Jigano agreed cheerfully to Rance’s willingness to try fishing in hard mode. Two men, four rods, and a lot of optimism. What could possibly go wrong?

For Rance , at least, the answer was:  not much. The rod in his left hand jumped first, a little tug that gave him time to set the other down and play the fish in, landing it on the ice before his other rod began to slide into the hole. He was able to catch it and when he pulled it back he found resistance on the line, a second fish soon joining the first. Rebaited and back in the water, he proceeded to have periods of quiet interspersed with excitement as one or the other hook would attract a hungry winter fish.

Jigano’s luck held similarly, though he had a bad moment in the middle where both rods jerked at once, and he lost the second fish. His fishing hole wasn’t quite as productive as Rance’s was, but he still managed a respectable number and size of finned dinners for the Sparkbird by the time the fire had burned low enough to begin the smoking.

Amalia ‘s call to the dreamfish finally found its way to a dozing pair, the scaled beauties swimming slowly up from their hibernation to make their leisurely way into her tank. Whether she used all her luck on the fish or not it was hard to say, but when she went to tend the fire it was almost as if the merry blaze was offended by her time in the water. The smoke blew into her face and the fresh wood refused to catch, smoking sullenly rather than taking flame.

Lily didn’t fare much better, her attempts to make a spit or skewers collapsing into the fire, though at least they fed it where Amalia’s attempts had failed. Fishing took awhile, though, so at least she had plenty of time to try, try again before the fox and the raven returned with their piscine bounty, beaming and proud of themselves.

Jigano surveyed the fire, now burned down to a thick bed of glowing coals, and grinned at the ladies. ”Time to remove the heads and gut the fish,” he announced, using his creation magic to produce a sharp fileting knife for whoever took up the task. ”If someone can start gutting them, the next person can stuff the finished ones with the onions, butter, and salt. We’ll wrap them in layers of paper—“ He gestured to the bag he’d brought, and the paper within. ”That have been soaked in water. I’ll get the coals raked and cover the stuffed-and-wrapped fish in them. Then we can sit back and relax for an hour while they smoke themselves inside the paper.” Wetting the paper first would keep it from catching fire, while using paper instead of something more waterproof would let the moisture escape from the fish within as the whole package cooked beneath the coals.

”Who wants to do what?”

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1. Gut the fish and chop their heads off
2. Stuff the cavities with the supplies from round 1
3. Wet the paper and wrap the fish securely

Post in task order (i.e. whoever wants task 1 should post first) but otherwise anyone can choose whatever task they fancy!

Rance's luck with the fish surprised him, but he wasn't above taking advantage of it in the moment. Jigano seemed to only be having a little more trouble, but only just, and they both came back with respectable hauls. With numb fingers, he carried his load to the fireside and listened to the next set of instructions.

No one leapt at gutting the fish and he was getting the impression that neither woman was in a rush to handle dead animals, whatever their reasons. The raven, however, had absolutely no qualms. He shrugged and reached out for the knife, "'I caught the slimy bastards, might as well clean 'em."

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Rance will attempt to clean the fish!

Yeahh… fish guts and organs really aren’t her thing. The necessary slaughter of animals is something she stayed away from during her original life - the smells and the sounds didn’t always sit right with her stomach. Really, it’s a good thing she never ended up as a kitchen maid.

Once everything is out of the fish, she can manage.

So Lily does, stuffing the catch in preparation for what seems like a gourmet meal. “Hey if the Sparkbird doesn’t show up this year, I call dibs on one of these.” It’s a little confusing whats going on, though - are they smoking them? In which case they need to put above the fire or are they cooking them? In which case the coals are appropriate. “Are we sure the Sparkbird wants cooked fish, though?”

Curious, she directs a look to Amalai. She’s an owl, which is a carnivorous bird. What does she think?

YOU SAID THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE MOON IT ROSE TOO SOON AND WE'RE DOING WHAT WE SHOULD Amalia winces at the proposed tasks, not particularly eager to decapitate or gut the fish. Yes, she is a predatory animal, but her distaste for participating in the actual taking of a life has kept her from ever actually hunting, even in her more carnivorous forms. So she is grateful when the first two tasks are taken up by Rance and Lily, leaving her with soaking and wrapping - far more agreeable, in her mind. The paper takes the water well; Amalia makes her way back to the campfire, holding it at arms length. As Lily passes her a stuffed fish to wrap and asks her question the Shield shrugs thoughtfully, not sure how to answer. "I doubt any predator would say no to meat regardless," the girl points out with a wry smile, feeling her own stomach rumble. "Besides, this is the best way to keep them from spoiling. Whether... whether the bird comes or not." a m a l i a You said it's life that moves too much We're losing touch But I'm not losing you

Rance gutted their catch e-fish-ently and without slicing his own fingers in the process, managing neat work of the messy job. He worked quickly enough to keep Lily on her toes as the half a dozen medium-to-large fish - some dreamfish, others walleye and trout - made their way over to her station, wet and slippery but washed clean of guts and divested of heads. Isuma swooped down from the branches to claim one of the tossed heads, happily snacking at the bits of meat revealed at the cut end.

Lily 's prep was a bit more of a struggle, the difficulty scale-ing up with the size of the fish Rance sent her way. Her perseverance paid off, and Jigano grinned at her quip, and nodded at Amalia's answer, trying not to worry too much about the chance of failure this year. He took the opportunity to expand on her answer, since the meat would still be good when LongNight ended, if any remained. "The process of smoking cooks the meat, whether hot smoked or cold smoked. We'll hot smoke them in the coals today, though. That's what the wet paper helps with. It's faster than cold smoking them, and this way we don't have to stand guard over them to prevent any other hungry creatures from trying to steal them over the course of several days." Ever the instructor, he was happy to share what he'd learned from reading up on the process in preparation for today. "The longer we leave them in the coals, the dryer the meat will become. An hour should dry these out enough to let them keep for the next couple weeks, without completely losing the flavor of what you're filling them with," he added cheerfully.

Amalia managed to avoid getting water on her clothes, maneuvering the wrappings for the Spark Bird's meal deftly over the snow. Her clever hands had no problem swaddling each fish in its wet layers, and she was able to tuck the edges of the paper just right so they didn't come undone when she handed them to Jigano.

He struggled more with the coals than he'd expected to. They'd had better luck with fishing than he'd anticipated, and worse luck with the fire, and it was a challenge to try and get all the fish properly sandwiched in the coals, but at least they were hot enough to last.

Finally he sat back, watching the faint wisps of smoke beginning to rise between the glowing coals as the paper began to heat, prevented from igniting by the soaking it had received at Amalia's hands.

"We've got an hour to wait, and a fire to warm us. Now all we need is something to keep the boredom at bay," he announced with a grin to his friends. "Who wants to go first? A story or a song to help pass the time?"

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Almost done! Share a tale or a tune while the fish smokes and cooks through. No posting order.

YOU SAID THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE MOON IT ROSE TOO SOON AND WE'RE DOING WHAT WE SHOULD An hour to wait, and tales to tell. Amalia of a year ago might not have been eager to speak up and share, but the girl who sits by the fire today has grown in time and experience. As the only Natural she cannot help but feel a sense of duty to share what she knows; sitting up at Jigano's suggestion, the girl licks her lips before speaking cautiously: "I... know a song about the Spark Bird. My grandmother used to sing it during LongNight, to keep us calm." She hesitates a moment, waiting to see if the others will accept, before beginning the simple tune. Her eyes are on the fire and her cheeks are flushed, but her voice rises in tone and pitch, growing stronger with each verse. ""Long Night comes and darkness creeps Into your room as you fall asleep Hush little child, don’t you fear Soon the Spark Bird will be here! Spark Bird, Spark Bird, light our way! Make the Long Night bright as day! Spark Bird, Spark Bird, come this year! Yours is the song we long to hear! Wings like a storm and eyes like a fire See as the bird flies higher and higher Bringing light to the world below Setting Caido all aglow! Spark Bird, Spark Bird, light our way! Make the Long Night bright as day! Spark Bird, Spark Bird, come this year! Yours is the song we long to hear! So build a perch and leave a gift! Whisper to Rae your dearest wish! If we are good and do not cry, Soon the Spark Bird will light the sky! Spark Bird, Spark Bird, light our way! Make the Long Night bright as day! Spark Bird, Spark Bird, come this year! Yours is the song we long to hear!" a m a l i a You said it's life that moves too much We're losing touch But I'm not losing you

The first couple of fish were something of a mess, with far more bones likely still caught inside than were taken out. But, luckily, there were more than enough fish for Rance to get some practice in and, with the help of the magically-crafted blade, the process of gutting was significantly swifter and cleaner by the time he was finished.

He can’t help but think that Jigano’s bardic roots are showing by the request of song or tale to fill the time, but he’s already pondering what stories he could tell when Amalia speaks up. He leans forward, instantly interested and attentive, nodding when she looks for affirmation. It was a simple tune, maybe a lullaby, but Amalia’s voice was good, and the lyrics were a telling sign of just how important the Spark Bird was to the culture of the Grounders. By the time she finished, Rance realized that, maybe, he ought to be a bit more respectful to the creature they were trying to lure.

“I’m not much of a singer, so I can’t offer anything like that, but I think I might have something.” He shifted a bit, leaning forward more without thinking about it. “In the old kingdom, when my folk didn’t need to stay ‘hidden’, the royal family was blessed with a prince. Or, rather, ‘cursed’, for on his back were great feathered wings, as pale and shining as new snow.”

The story continued as Rance described how the royal family tried first to hide the wings then, as the prince grew older and his wings grew larger, to decorate them with chains and jewels as if they were a cloak, chaining the appendages together in the process. How the king banished the prince to a tower of ice, a magically constructed prison to ‘save’ the kingdom from his ‘curse’. How the prince’s one friend followed, scouring the kingdom until he found the tower. The friend’s journey was, of course, shortened from how Rance had learned it, with many of the details trimmed if they were too tangled with the lore of his homeland, but the story still led to scaling the tower, and the friends reuniting.

“...The story is a little vague on where they found the magic to break the prince’s chains. Some say the friend was blessed in his own way, some say there was more magical about the prince than just his wings." Rance shrugged, waving a hand as if brushing the detail away. "Whatever they did, they shattered the chains and the tower began to melt. They had just enough time for the prince to grab his friend and fly them both away to safety and, finally, freedom.”

Listening to the Amalia and Rance, (humming along when appropriate) Lily is tempted to pass her turn on to Jigano. But the story of the man with the wings prompts the memory of an ancient story, a warning, really, if you try and look at the deeper meaning.

“Alright,” she begins, taking a deep breath and looking at the other three.“My story is from my home world and it’s also about a man who flies. His name was Daedelus, and he was a great inventor who had been banished to the island of Crete for killing his nephew out of jealousy. Once he came to Crete, an even more evil man, the king, held him hostage and made him build a vast labyrinth for a monster called the Minotaur - half man, half bull, with a taste for human flesh.” Her voice rises and falls with the story, growling as she describes the beast.

“And every year, twelve maidens and twelve virgin men were sacrificed to the Minotaur. The people were miserable, they feared the time when the lottery came, and Daedelus? Well, Daedalus’s guilt grew and grew. It wasn’t his fault, though, not really. The evil king held his son, Icarus, hostage in a tower, and every time he promised Daedelus his freedom, he broke it soon after.” Lily’s voice grows sorrowful as she tells her audience about the sorry state of Crete.“Daedelus made amazing boats for this king, invention upon invention until one day he’d had enough, and decided to work on something in secret. By this time, Icarus was a willful, headstrong teenager, and more than able to help his father get away from their captor. So Daedelus studied the birds of the sea and designed wings for himself and Icarus, holding it all together with wax.”

She takes a breath and a handful of snow to wet her mouth. “Now Crete was an island by the sea, so one night, when it was beset by strong winds, Daedalus and Icarus lept from their prison. They were carried upward and out to sea, and Icarus so loved the feeling that he was heedless of the rising sun. As they turned towards land, he climbed higher and higher - disregarding his father’s warnings and pleas not to fly too close to either the sun or sea. Eventually he was too high and the sun began to melt the feathers off his wings. He fell into the sea and sank beneath the waves.” Lily pauses and hangs her head a little.

“Daedelus was never the same after that. He never invented another thing.”

One for sorrow and two for joy, as the saying went, and the coals burned low and hot as songs and tales filled the winter air and Jigano reached out to rake them and blow them back to smoldering life with the help of a friendly breeze. He'd heard Amalia's song the year before and hummed along with Lily to it, then turned shining eyes on Rance's tale of a friendship more powerful than fear and curses combined. Lily's fable was a cautionary note to end the day on, for though he had yet to take his turn at the entertainment the smell of smoked fish filled the clearing, savory and tantalizing, though it would fade as the meat cooled and the cold deadened the odor.

"I think we've got our offerings," he spoke warmly, looking around the ring of faces. "Thanks to you. Hopefully the Spark Bird will enjoy them this year." And respond to all the work they had put in to them! "We can head back now. I'll put them up in the Perch. Hopefully that will keep them away from most of the monsters until she comes." Not if, but when. He had to hold to that hope, however, foolish or unlikely. They had done all that they could and now it was time to face the music...

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This concludes the Spark Bird Offerings PQ! Thank you all!

{Finished}