* Giles gulped as the slimy reek of fish stew assaulted his nostrils. Gaddy and the others were smiling as broadly as kings in a banquet hall. Well, now came the test. Giles shuddered more than necessary in front of the fire, held out his hands to warm them, sat stretched until his toes were comfortably toasty, waited until the others were paying rapt attention to the inside of their bowls. *
* At last he could no longer delay the inevitable. Trudging over to the origin of the horrid smell, Giles held his breath, hoisted the ladle, dished himself a helping of stew, consoled himself with the thought that he could easily pick out the nasty fish-pieces and toss them back into the pot. *
* Clunk, plink, plonk, plunk. There! Giles looked into his bowl, but his face fell. Now all that was in there was hot water coated with a greasy bilious film of fish oil. *
* There was nothing for it. Giles dunked the ladle back in and scavenged the four torment-laden fish morsels. Closing his eyes, he swallowed them as best he could without chewing, then drained the broth with a body-tingling, quite necessary though quite involuntary, shudder. *
* Giles slinked quietly off to his bedroll and huddled deep inside, squinching his eyes tight shut and clutching his stomach. Trying not to let the queasiness win. *
[ January 18, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]
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