Beauties and Beasts

Chapter 148: brought to you by *gasp* possible modern convenience!

Again, a lack of episode introduction from Tyndali. Any offers or suggestions from ya'll?

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"And how many times would you like me to do this?" Leopold posed over the saltwater bucket, balancing the carbon/cotton filter between his hands. He'd already sloshed the water through twice, but Neara wanted to make absolutely sure they caught everything.

"Two more times. If the water still has things floating in it, tell me and I'll add another layer of cotton." She couldn't see anything in the water now, but you didn't mess with bacteria, especially without penicillin.

"Got the strings tied." The willow bark Benedict and Ethel gathered and scrubbed were twisted and braided until a sturdy rope formed, barely as thick as her thumb. They secured these to a thick branch and let them down into the thick briny water.

"Ok, now sprinkle a little salt around the strings."

"Sounds weird to 'seed' water with salt," Orson mumbled, but as the skinniest, he was the one precariously balanced over the pool with a basket of precious crystals, which he plopped into the water. "But whatever."

"It speeds up the process." Neara rolled her eyes and gave a thumbs up to Benedict, already softening more bark. She'd been working on a drop spindle with mixed results and didn't know what they were going to do with the resulting threads yet since she had yet to figure out an actual loom, but she had hope. She'd read a book on something like it once, and she'd seen reenactors doing it in history class so it might take a few years, but she'd get the hang of it. And once she taught these beastmen, with their limitless stamina, she'd be grateful for the extra time making thread. Speaking of which... "Winston, have you found those mulberry trees yet?"

He nodded, though his hands were covered in chalk. "I planted them near the fields of cotton and wheat; they should mature nicely there. They were covered in small caterpillars but I left them as you instructed."

She nodded. Silk would help strengthen the cotton threads. Now she had to figure out flax... and if nothing else, she knew for a fact people used to write on silk scrolls so if she couldn't find the papyrus reeds, that could be a fall back plan. The more chalk they gathered, the more nervous she became. Quicklime was highly corrosive and they hadn't exactly invented OSHA or safety gear yet, but cement would hold up better for houses than just stones and beams thrown together. If only she could remember the exact ratio of sand to rocks to quicklime... 1-1-2? She wished Shay was there, for the hundredth time that day, and rubbed a lock of her lengethning hair. She'd find one of the babies, maybe all of them if she was lucky, and they'd have her smarts, and maybe the Snake memory would extend to Shay's memories too. She suppressed a shudder. She'd have to get over that fear for their sakes.

"I have poured the water, Neara." Leopold held up the bucket. "Should I dump it with the other brine?"

And Neara, awestruck by the rainbows glistening in his sweat, had to remind herself she already had three husbands and definitely didn't need a cuckoo one. He stretched a hand to wipe at his brow and she mentally picked her jaw off the ground and thought maybe she did need just... one more.

"For the love of gods, Neara." Orson playfully flicked her shoulder and took the water from Leopold. "Yeah, dum-dum, it goes in with the rest of the water. You can stop posing now."

Leopold looked distressed, the corners of his eyes and mouth pulled down. "Orson, I do not presume to know the actions or intentions of the Prophesied One..."

"You know what the prophesied one needs? A token of your affection, a treasure, something so unique it could only have come from you. Go into the woods and don't come back until you've found it." Orson nodded his head behind Leopold, who turned with a jerk. Chuckling to himself, he walked towards the salt pool, leaving them alone.