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((Warning for (non-gory) dead animals!))

Busy day today for Gredya.

First she's in the kitchen, putting up one more freezer bag of meat. That's enough for now, she thinks: she's filled one shelf, a cache for the hardest times of winter. She has another bag, marked again with a note like last time: Ganibal Leckter. You see this before? Gredya. It'll wait for him at one end of the bar if he doesn't happen to show up. Inside--if anyone cares to snoop on Lecter's mail!--is a smallish dog-like creature (deceased) with a forked tail-tip and oddly squared-off ears.

Once she's taken care of that, she heads outside with a stack of books. It's not just her adult-literacy text now. She's expanding her reading material.

(And she's botherable in either location!)

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She takes it and tries, clumsily at first. It takes a few attempts. "What makes it work? Inside, it has...alcohol? Gasoline?"

A wonderful little tool.

"Something like gasoline," Dr. Lecter says. "You're getting the hang of it."

Gredya has very little first-hand experience with setting fires, but she at least knows that some things start them. She nods. "So, you need wood? What kind of fire is good for this?" An amused sideways smile, as she looks over her shoulder at the main building. "And do they have many rules about it?"

"Fire? No, they don't."

Dr. Lecter looks around.

"There's the stone fire pit I've used for barbecues before; I suggest we light our fire there."

He gestures towards it.

She nods and bends down to pick up her books, dusting a fleck of moss off one of the covers. "Tell me what kind of wood, and I will get it. Or there is another way?"

Edited 2014-10-25 23:39 (UTC)

"Dry wood that burns well," Dr. Lecter says. "We're not smoking the Set animal, we're just singeing it."

After a brief hesitation she offers the books to Lecter. If he'll take them over to the fire pit, she'll go collect wood?

He accepts the books, and nods, starting to walk towards the fire pit with them, and the bag full of dead ~~dog~~ Set animal.

Gredya would be highly amused at the thought of someone feeling sentimental about eating dogs.

She comes back some time later, arms full of fuel and kindling. "Enough?"

Dr. Lecter takes a look at it.

"Yes, that should do it," he says.

He's stacked the books neatly on a picnic table, and laid out the animal and some knives on another.

She crouches down and starts building the fire--though she'll certainly accept direction. It's not something she's especially good at.

A quick glance shows her that the library books are not in immediate danger of getting dead animal on them. Good! "What will you put in the marinade?"

"Vinegar, salt, garlic, hot peppers, tomatoes and lemon juice," Dr. Lecter says.

He is carefully aligning the knives.

Not wine, then. He remembered that.

When she has the wood arranged, she gets to her feet and pads over and watches in silence. So many different knives.

"Can you light the fire as well?" Dr. Lecter says. "Or would you like to fetch the ingredients and a bowl from the kitchen?"

"I will light." She laughs under her breath. "You know in-gre-dients and bowls much better. Long time waiting, for me to find vinegar-salt-garlic-hot peppers-tomatoes-lemon juice."

"But you remember them all," Hannibal says.

She clucks her tongue. "You just said it." It's not as though taking notes has ever been an option.

Gredya waves him towards the building, pretend-imperiously. "You know the right things. I will light the fire."

What, she likes the lighter.

"Most humans are so scatter-brained, they wouldn't even remember that list for the ten minutes since I named all the ingredients," Dr. Lecter says.

He gives a little bow to Gredya, then walks towards the back door of the kitchen to fetch those things.

Gredya's expression is eloquent on the subject of "most humans" and their powers of observation and concentration.

So, the fire. The lighter is still tricky, but with a few tries it does its work; and she'd been able to get enough kindling and light branches to get the fire well established until the larger branches take. When Lecter comes back, he'll find her crouched next to the fire pit, looking smugly pleased with herself.

Lecter comes back with a stainless steel cart, laden with the ingredients and some bowls -- a medium sized steel one for combining the marinade, and a very large clear plastic one for marinading the ~~dog~~ Set animal in.

"That is a nice fire you got going," he remarks. "Do Wyr habitually use fire, or is that something you're doing differently as well?"

"Not much." She stands and brushes off her hands. "We don't cook. In winter, sometimes a pack keeps matches, wood, somewhere dry. For the cold. But we don't need it, not in fur. And fire tells everyone where you are."

"But you do know how to build one and keep it going," Dr. Lecter says.

He lays out the ingredients for the marinade on the carts.

"It's good to know." She shakes her hair back from her face. "I talked to someone. He said, this is the end of the universe. Or universes. How is that? Is that true?"

There was a train of thought there, leading up to the question: but yes, it's rather abrupt.

"That is what they say," Dr. Lecter says. "It apparently is one end. of one universe."

Pause.

"Hardly a dead end, though, as inter-dimensional journeys and time travel go."

He puts on a long, thick pair of sturdy oven gloves. Then, he takes the carcass of the Set animal by the hind legs and thrusts it into the fire.

Edited 2014-10-27 19:34 (UTC)

"But universes end. I did not know that," she says quietly. There are some people that visit Crossroads that she could ask, but she'd rather not.

She folds her arms and watches Lecter with the animal carcass. The smell of burning fur makes her nose twitch.