01-29-2023, 03:33 PM
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The last of the day’s sunlight tinted the sky so orange even the sea’s waves tinged purple. Rosemary had her back to the tide, her tail’s tips lashing the sand as she irritably struck flint. The wild boar wouldn’t cook itself—no matter how much time she’d spent seasoning it or that one of the best craftsmen in the Typhoon built the spit—but the fire was testing her patience.
“And this is why I always use magic to boil water for the tea,” Rosemary mumbled. Then she sighed, rubbed her muzzle with a paw, and began again.
This time, the flint sparked. The dry kindling caught fire. The larger logs began smoking. Rosemary turned her head away from the firepit to cough.
Rosemary sighed and moved to another patch of kindling. The flint scraped and sparked, then, eventually, the second kindling spot caught fire. The logs were producing more smoke, but it couldn’t be helped; she’d already removed, via magic, as much water as she could from the wood.
Her tail’s forked ends curled inwards, straightened out, curled again in an endless cycle as she stared at the fire. Her body was frozen stiff with impatience as she held herself back from poking and prodding the fire.
After an eternity of patience, the first log caught fire. Rosemary grinned to herself as the smoke took on a sweet cedar smell. Now, finally, she knew the boar was cooking.
[/td][/tr][/table]“And this is why I always use magic to boil water for the tea,” Rosemary mumbled. Then she sighed, rubbed her muzzle with a paw, and began again.
This time, the flint sparked. The dry kindling caught fire. The larger logs began smoking. Rosemary turned her head away from the firepit to cough.
Rosemary sighed and moved to another patch of kindling. The flint scraped and sparked, then, eventually, the second kindling spot caught fire. The logs were producing more smoke, but it couldn’t be helped; she’d already removed, via magic, as much water as she could from the wood.
Her tail’s forked ends curled inwards, straightened out, curled again in an endless cycle as she stared at the fire. Her body was frozen stiff with impatience as she held herself back from poking and prodding the fire.
After an eternity of patience, the first log caught fire. Rosemary grinned to herself as the smoke took on a sweet cedar smell. Now, finally, she knew the boar was cooking.
PEACEFALL
peace comes at dawn, but yours comes at night
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?