It was late in the afternoon when Bullroarer and Daisy returned to the house. The hunt had proved successful - Daisy had brought down four conys with her sling, and they had gotten a brace of quail with one of their nets. Most of their time had been spent laying out the traps and nets in hopes that by the morrow, when they checked them, they would have another supply of meat for their hosts' table.
It was a hungry and tired pair that came back to the house. They cleaned and gutted their catch, then presented them to the Missus. She directed them to give her the rabbits, she would chunk them up for a rich stew along with the root vegetables she had stored in the cellar. The birds she had them put on a spit over the fire. She would roast them, and pick the meat from their bones, for some tasty quail and mushroom tartlets for tomorrow. She set two handsful of dried mushrooms to soaking, and was soon humming happily to herself as she started the broth for the stew.
Daisy and Bullroarer offered to lend a hand, but she shooed them away from her cooking area and to the kitchen table, saying they had done enough just bringing her the game. She poured them both mugs of thick sweet tea, and they sat back, relaxed in their chairs, as she bustled about her domain.
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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