Fletcher sat beside the fire. It was his time to cook again, not that ‘food’ consisted of anything half edible half the time. Some boiled water and rations for a rather bland soup more often then not. Well this time it was literally a feast. Between the dead wolves, worgs, and horses, there was more meat then the remainder could carry at any speed. Not many greens though, blasted winter. Still, the meat sizzling over the fire held an aroma that made his mouth water. Last nights dinner had been massive and everyone had eaten more then their fill. Breakfast would likely be the same, perhaps only held back by the need to move soon after. Oh but what he wouldn’t do for a couple potatoes. Or some spices. He chuckled to himself. At least he couldn’t possibly make the meat taste worse then those sheep sausages.
Chuckling vibrated his throat oddly, and his hand went to his neck. The flesh there was raw, the skin pink in it’s newness. Entares had done a masterful job placing all the torn and shredded flesh back were it belonged, even finding and replacing a few pieces that had been ripped of by Kortoks teeth, and left strewn around the area. There’d been some discussion about that, whether it was safe to do so considering Kortok seemed to be some sort of werewolf, but in the end it had been decided that the risk was hardly made worse, considering the size of the original wound. Either way, after Entares had replaced all the tissue where it belonged, and placed what scraps of skin remained across it, Ra had done her weird magic touch thing, and the tissue just… reattached itself, the scraps of skin growing out to cover the exposed flesh. Entares said the wound looked to be around a month old already. Which was definitely a good thing, running around in the wild with wolves and who knows what else, with a fresh wound, would have been… less then comfortable.
Fletcher pulled his scarf away from the edge of the fire where it was hanging, and wrapped it’s warmth around his neck, then tightening his cloths about himself. The warmth of the fabric felt so good. He closed his eyes for a while and tried to imagine what an actual summer day must feel like.