And so, while the Sovereign planned and the Green Fox was deployed, while reassignments were made and love letters were discussed... ...food was being made. And let us be perfectly clear here. This wasn't simple ordinary rations and water, the very basics of human survival doshed out to soldiers to keep their bellies quite. No no no no... REAL food, food for champions, [i]proper eats[/i]. As it all came to fruition, cooked and toasted to perfection, the aroma began to seriously waft. Tender beef and cooked veg, herbs and spices, and even...garlic bread! Britta had outdone herself in two particular ways. First of all, while she had often helped her mother with the cooking at home, this would be the first time creating a large meal for many, basically on her own. Isaac's assistance was more-or-less a time-saver in regards to what she could do on her own, though she would at admit that it made the job easier. Secondly, though, the challenge of the meal itself - working with what they had, rather than having the selection of a store to decide her approach - was almost genius. That she had managed a decent dumpling stew like this was an achievement in of itself, and to top it all off with garlic bread? That was a stroke of luck the camp would soon not forget! She worked on her own, staying in the zone of cooking and not thinking - for now - of her own troubles, and a smile planted itself on her face. It was almost ready... Even if she'd done [i]half[/i] as well as she had, the Squad would be eating better than they had in a while, perhaps as good as they'd had it at the White Hart, even. Oh, but she [i]hated[/i] to think of that now... All those great memories, and all that tragedy, coupled into one... [color=ed1c24][b][i]Hans, wherever you are, I hope they gave you a gasmask too.[/i][/b][/color] Or better yet, that he didn't need it, and would [i]never[/i] need it. Now, that she had pulled out some of the wood to lessen the fire, let the stew simmer and toast the bread a little, it was almost time... Isaac had gone to find glasses, but along the way he realized he needed to set out alot of things, like bowls and spoons. He did that without even thinking about it, demonstrating what HE did around the house at home. What must it be like, on the Black family lands? He was the youngest in his family, according to him, and it was a bit bigger than her own family, perhaps just as warm. Rather than dealing with crops, they wrangled animals, so they must've all been fairly-strong too, rather than just traveling on excess crop-picking stamina. Isaac returned to the cooking spot when he was done. [color=f7941d]"Alright, everything's ready. They're gonna love this..."[/color] [b][color=ed1c24]"They're gonna surround us like your wolves."[/color][/b] [color=f7941d]"I wouldn't be surprised. It was almost [i]impossible[/i] to keep them all away from our slaughterhouse when there's been a fresh kill. Rikes even tried to dig under it and pop up through the wooden floor."[/color] [b][color=ed1c24]"How'd you solve [i]that?[/i]"[/color][/b] [color=f7941d]"Tossed some unused giblets outside and worked like hell to fill the hole."[/color] [b][color=ed1c24]"Did you ever do the slaughtering yourself?"[/color][/b] [color=f7941d]"Only to feed the wolves. Dad figured if I smelled like that and it [i]wasn't[/i] feeding time, they'd get confused."[/color] [b][color=ed1c24]"Smart man."[/color][/b] She knew that he was making conversation like this to help her keep her mind off of things, like she wanted. Isaac had that 'Whenever you're ready' look about him. He wouldn't force it, and for that she was thankful, but he also wasn't leaving it. That was okay, though, because she didn't [i]want[/i] him to leave it. She wanted to say, but not right now. Right now, they were all about to sit down to a nice meal. Right now, she was putting out all of the fire and setting out the garlic bread on a small makeshift table. Right now, it was... [b][color=ed1c24]"DINNERTIME!!"[/color][/b] >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Lost. Alone. Hated that. He lost their scent. How did he lose their [i]scent?[/i] It was all because of the [i]smoke[/i]. That awful [i]stenchful[/i] smoke. He'd turned and fled like a pup from something that smelled worse than decaying dead, something that [i]was[/i] death. He had to. It would choke him to death. He could tell. There was no choice. Hadn't been able to find the others since. City smells, enemy signs, distant sounds - no friends in the curious-patterned clothes. Only the things they called the Imps. He'd killed several Imps, since then. Last resort. Not suppose to, but had to. Hungry, or nearly trapped. Got hurt, but not badly. Snagged the parcel-vest more than his flesh. Have to be more careful... Been a while. No food. Last Imp he attacked had food, but there was a shot and he had to run. So close. Even Imp rations are okay to eat, sort of. No friends, no Feds. Must have ran fully into Imp territory when the smoke arrived, gone the wrong way. Been wandering the entire time, sleep only when absolutely sure nobody was around...so very scarcely, even for his kind. Distant sounds were resolving into...people. [i]Lots[/i] of people. Not sure, but...wait, no. This was okay. It wasn't Imp-speak. It was English, or mostly English. Also, there was... Oh! Oh, that smelled [i]good[/i]... Rikes' ears perked up, suddenly. Did somebody just shout 'Dinnertime'?