[hr][hr][center][h3][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h3][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] (to the side of the) Road North of Salarn, Day Three [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] Kyra, Cremwise, The Group [/center][/b][hr][hr]

	It took a little doing to find a spot nearby suitable to wheel the wagon off of the road, but it got done. There was a glowing and obvious difficulty with the idea of cooking the until recently living bird, maybe others had noticed it. If they hadn't, Keystone took the responsibility upon himself make mention of the room-dwelling elephant. 

	[color=b8860b]"Y'know, went me to a place, long while back. Far east o'ere. Folk talked different, ate lotsa rice, whatnot... Anyway, buggers had this habit, eatin' fish out the ocean. Didn't touch it to heat or nothin'. Now, I dunno if you lot want this goose..."[/color] He paused for a moment, unsure as to exactly what the carcass in his hand used to be prior to impalement and plucking. Looking to Kyra, he inquired, [color=b8860b]"Goose? Bloody 'ell..."[/color] He shrugged, and continued his thought with the rest of the group, [color=b8860b]"Dunno if you lot want this goose(?) done up all Maki Maki, but we ain't got a stick o' wood ain't soaked through n' through."[/color] 

	Cremwise, silent up until this point, cleared his throat and uncovered part of the wagon. Inside, there was a tinderbox and various sizes of lumber scrap, protected from the elements. "If it would help get that goose cooked faster, take what you need, Keystone."

	Keystone slapped his broad palm to his head in disbelief. This was something he would have liked to know about earlier. Possibly when they were huddled around a barely warm hearth the night before. Maybe the night before that. But no matter, it was available to them now. But time was short. 

	[color=b8860b]"Riiiight."[/color] he shook his head slowly. [color=b8860b]"If'n you lot want supper timely, I'll need one'a ya to get a fire lit and low on the quick whilst I dress this bird. 'Nother'n get me a hole dug what I can bury the less tasty of the guts in. Otherwise, it ain't getting done in one quick hour. Li'l 'elp, then?"[/color]

	The uncouth pugilist began to bring his knife to bear, carefully opening and disembowling the avian. He was set up next to a puddle of rainwater, which he used every so often to rinse off his hands as he worked.