Timestamp: 80th of Winter, 514 AV
Normally Sira dined in her rooms, especially so late into winter when tensions were high and people were hungry. As an endal she received better portions than the lower castes, and unless they had completely run out, she was always given meat with her meals and given better quality food than the lower castes. There were reasons for it, good ones as far as she was concerned, but the lower castes didn't see things that way.
The only reason Sira had even come to the kitchens herself was because the previous day she discovered that whichever dek or chiet had delivered her food had taken a bite out of it. So.. She would get her food herself for the rest of the season. She planned to go back to her aerie, but as her eyes swept over the room she spotted something, or rather someone, that changed her mind.
She set her tray down across from Azira and took a seat. The other Inarta at the table all fell silent, surprised that an endal would come sit with them, but Sira had no interest in them. She studied the avora across from her for a moment before glancing down at her own food. Rabbit soup, with actual chunks of meat in it, and a side of blue mold paste. Everybody had the same stew, for the most part, but not everybody got the chunks of meat.
"Would you like some of my soup," she asked, looking back at Azira. "I'm not very hungry this morning."
That was a lie. Sira was always hungry during the winter, everybody was. But it seemed like the best way to break the ice, and it wasn't like she wasn't going to eat again in a few hours anyway. Endals always got their meals.
"I'll take some," one of the men at the table started to say, but Sira shot him a glare that silenced him as surely as an arrow through the throat would have.
"Seriously, take it. If I get hungry I can always eat one of the yasi pestering me to become my endal."
It was meant to be a joke but.. with wind eagles, you never knew.
Normally Sira dined in her rooms, especially so late into winter when tensions were high and people were hungry. As an endal she received better portions than the lower castes, and unless they had completely run out, she was always given meat with her meals and given better quality food than the lower castes. There were reasons for it, good ones as far as she was concerned, but the lower castes didn't see things that way.
The only reason Sira had even come to the kitchens herself was because the previous day she discovered that whichever dek or chiet had delivered her food had taken a bite out of it. So.. She would get her food herself for the rest of the season. She planned to go back to her aerie, but as her eyes swept over the room she spotted something, or rather someone, that changed her mind.
She set her tray down across from Azira and took a seat. The other Inarta at the table all fell silent, surprised that an endal would come sit with them, but Sira had no interest in them. She studied the avora across from her for a moment before glancing down at her own food. Rabbit soup, with actual chunks of meat in it, and a side of blue mold paste. Everybody had the same stew, for the most part, but not everybody got the chunks of meat.
"Would you like some of my soup," she asked, looking back at Azira. "I'm not very hungry this morning."
That was a lie. Sira was always hungry during the winter, everybody was. But it seemed like the best way to break the ice, and it wasn't like she wasn't going to eat again in a few hours anyway. Endals always got their meals.
"I'll take some," one of the men at the table started to say, but Sira shot him a glare that silenced him as surely as an arrow through the throat would have.
"Seriously, take it. If I get hungry I can always eat one of the yasi pestering me to become my endal."
It was meant to be a joke but.. with wind eagles, you never knew.