Smolder

Chapter 13

Russell just couldn't.

He just couldn't tell Arron that a fine row of toilets and bathing stalls had been set by the elves just fifty yards from there.

Poor guy looked miserable. He was walking with a limp. Every once in a while he'd stare at the forest and shudder, like he's thinking of giant horse-chickens.

Giant horse-chickens.

Russell smirked a bit.

If somebody came two days ago and told him they met a giant horse-chicken in the middle of the forest at night while taking a leak, Russell would've simply asked that person what they had been smoking. But compared to the what's been happening of recent, this just wasn't all that shocking.

"Hey, hungry for some stew? They're serving it over there." Truth is Russell himself was hardly resisting himself from toppling over from nauseating hunger and wanted somebody to go with to reduce the awkwardness.

"I'm hungry for sandles!" Arron declared enthusiastically.

"You wanna eat sandles?" Russell arched an eyebrow. Alright, perhaps he shouldn't have been so trusting. The last two days had, after all, been enough to strain one's mind.

"Oh no! Ugh! That came out wrong! I meant to say, I'm so hungry I could eat sandles!" Arron stammered, " but wasn't Orpheus tell us to meet up?"

"He did. But there was no hurry. He went to talk to Len anyway. I gave the bread to the girls. I think we deserve to do some stomach worshipping now."

Arron didn't argue. Apparently his stomach god was angry too.

They walked through the crowd. It was hot and most people were wandering around aimlessly. Some were running around with purpose, as if to look for somebody in particular. A melancholic vacant look adorned the eyes of the ones who sat on the ground. Sunken into their sockets, they looked hollow in the low firelight.

As they neared the makeshift kitchen, the crowd got thicker. People started to look more and more lively. The sweet scent of bread started to peek over the pungent stew. Russell's stomach started to audibly roar and thrash as his mouth salivated.

There was a line of three people. They stood in the line, and in a moment Russell was in front of the shop.

The shop was a white cloth tent about thirty feet long. Smoke came out from the back, hearth radiated from it. A section was opened up wide for distributing food. Several elves were trying to give food to both humans and elves. From the little opening, a oven and a pot could be seen, along with another elf who was brewing it.

The stew was served in a tin can, along with a loaf of rye bread. The stew was excellently dense and the rye was well baked. Both Russell and Arron got a serving before they could pass out from hunger.

They took the stew and sat down on the ground a bit far from there. The ground was cold, but Russell's stomach was burning.

He inhaled the food.

The stew may have been delicious, but it passed down so quickly his tounge couldn't quite register the taste.

After the god in his stomach was pleased and half the stew was gone, he dunked the bread into the stew and ate it. The sense of taste seemed to come back now and the stew indeed, was delicious.

Russell looked over to Arron. He seemed to be on the same page, vigorously dunking the bread and chewing on it. Picking pieces of meat once in a while. Deer meat, Russell could tell by the salty taste.

Suddenly Arron looked into the can and carefully picked up a odd piece of meat, probably suspicious of it's origin.

"Don't look," Russell advised through eating, "it's easier when you don't look."