Together they carried the meat and bloody hide back to the broken tower, dividing the burden between them. When they got within sight of it again, Nya paused and studied it. Lormar was broken, old, and forgotten. It was no longer hidden by her mother's magic. It looked lonely and foreign to her. She didn't want to return. Her memories of the place were good ones, when the tower was brimming with life and not when it was like this. Nya glanced at Abashai covertly. What must he think? She'd told such stories and now it was this place of ruin.
Yet in a way it reflected the way both her and Abashai felt and the state of their relationship.
She almost snarled as she started walking again, not commenting on why she'd stopped abruptly. Let him think she was tired and needed a breather at the small rise that put the tower in view. With half the deer slung over her shoulder, the burden was heavy. Maybe she did. Nya kept forgetting the Unity, the link that still bonded them, that ratted out all her feelings to the man standing beside her... the virtual stranger.
The cat shook her head and crossed the grassy field in front of the tower emerging from the forest that surrounded it. She walked into the kitchen and laid her half of the carcass out on the table. The Forest Cat studied Shai as he laid his half down and then she tipped her nose in the direction of a cutting block with sharp knives.
"Will you hang it up somewhere in here and then strip what you want to dry off of it? I can take care of the hide. I never have cured them but I've watched my mother do it a lot. I think I can accomplish it." She said softly, knowing he was better with sharp things, better by far. Nya was predisposed to just eat the corpse, offal and all, and not preserve it. Had she been hungrier they might have argued for doing just that. But she knew he was wise suggesting they preserve a lot of it, drying it for a trip that Nya thought was smart to take.
She then turned and opened a closet that was perfect for hanging meat that sat off the kitchen. The girl left the door open so Abashai could see its purpose (cold storage) and removed a large stand up frame from it. There was a coil of twine attached to the frame and an awl used to puncture skins. She set the frame up off to the side just outside the kitchen doorway. Then she came back and took a pot out from the pot rack, filled it with water, and carefully started the fire. Shifting then, not caring that Abashai saw her slip off her tunic yet again, she used her cat form to carefully remove the head of the doe with her powerful jaws and crack open its skull to reveal its brains. She licked at the deliciousness, but did not eat it, choosing instead to shift back, slip her shift back on, and then using a large ladle scooped the brains out into the pot of water. The water would boil the brains down, evaporating until it was a thick creamy paste.
Nya's only question was a simple one. "Do we leave the fur on or not? I'm inclined just to save the leather, but I don't know if you want fur where we are going?" She said, knowing the skin would make her a good tunic or him a fine shirt. Or they could even trade it. If they were staying here through the winter, they'd need fur. But such things were better harvested in the winter when animal skins were thick with rich warmth not in the fall or spring or even summer when coats were light. Regardless, she'd let him decide.
Yet in a way it reflected the way both her and Abashai felt and the state of their relationship.
She almost snarled as she started walking again, not commenting on why she'd stopped abruptly. Let him think she was tired and needed a breather at the small rise that put the tower in view. With half the deer slung over her shoulder, the burden was heavy. Maybe she did. Nya kept forgetting the Unity, the link that still bonded them, that ratted out all her feelings to the man standing beside her... the virtual stranger.
The cat shook her head and crossed the grassy field in front of the tower emerging from the forest that surrounded it. She walked into the kitchen and laid her half of the carcass out on the table. The Forest Cat studied Shai as he laid his half down and then she tipped her nose in the direction of a cutting block with sharp knives.
"Will you hang it up somewhere in here and then strip what you want to dry off of it? I can take care of the hide. I never have cured them but I've watched my mother do it a lot. I think I can accomplish it." She said softly, knowing he was better with sharp things, better by far. Nya was predisposed to just eat the corpse, offal and all, and not preserve it. Had she been hungrier they might have argued for doing just that. But she knew he was wise suggesting they preserve a lot of it, drying it for a trip that Nya thought was smart to take.
She then turned and opened a closet that was perfect for hanging meat that sat off the kitchen. The girl left the door open so Abashai could see its purpose (cold storage) and removed a large stand up frame from it. There was a coil of twine attached to the frame and an awl used to puncture skins. She set the frame up off to the side just outside the kitchen doorway. Then she came back and took a pot out from the pot rack, filled it with water, and carefully started the fire. Shifting then, not caring that Abashai saw her slip off her tunic yet again, she used her cat form to carefully remove the head of the doe with her powerful jaws and crack open its skull to reveal its brains. She licked at the deliciousness, but did not eat it, choosing instead to shift back, slip her shift back on, and then using a large ladle scooped the brains out into the pot of water. The water would boil the brains down, evaporating until it was a thick creamy paste.
Nya's only question was a simple one. "Do we leave the fur on or not? I'm inclined just to save the leather, but I don't know if you want fur where we are going?" She said, knowing the skin would make her a good tunic or him a fine shirt. Or they could even trade it. If they were staying here through the winter, they'd need fur. But such things were better harvested in the winter when animal skins were thick with rich warmth not in the fall or spring or even summer when coats were light. Regardless, she'd let him decide.