Lyra grinned as she began to prepare their breakfast. With practiced ease, she set to work skinning and gutting the rabbits, her movements swift and efficient.

As she worked, Lyra fashioned a makeshift spit out of sturdy sticks, carefully skewering the cleaned rabbits and positioning them over the flames. The aroma of roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the scent of wood smoke.

At Finrod's question about her hunting skills, Lyra paused for a moment, her mind racing as she searched for an answer. She was still hesitant to divulge too much about her past, especially to someone she had really only just met. She kept her answer simple.

"Oh, I learned from my father," she replied, her tone casual as she turned the rabbits to ensure they cooked evenly. "He used to take me out when I was younger." 

It wasn't entirely a lie -- her father had taken her hunting once or twice when she was a child. But most of her skills had been acquired through trial and error, honed through years of necessity and survival.

Lyra pulled the skewers from the fire once they were ready, handing one to Finrod. "So, where are we off to today?"