Just a moment later and Bertrude returns. Silt that can’t kill anything and wasn’t made from any arcane horrors. Perhaps there is a dark movement at the bottom, but Hedwyn shifts his focus back to the bowl of black silt in front of him. He glances into her tea, something a sickly yellow with a layer of froth around the edges. We can make this palatable to those of weaker constitutions.”īertrude sets her tea on the counter and slithers off. “I’ve added a little salazar salt, but it’s just made it more bitter. “It’s silt porridge,” Hedwyn says, in a way that would be sarcastic if it was from anyone else. “Hnnnng… thou art using too much silt,” Bertrude tells Hedwyn, loudly slurping her tea. There are many flavors that they could learn to enjoy, if they could avoid that whole death thing, first. Nomads need to develop a palate for poison, Bertrude has told him. A mixture of mock bluegale and red riccums, both covered in an oil that would erode any other creature’s skin. She sits with Hedwyn in the kitchen, drinks a tea so acrid-smelling Hedwyn’s throat swells up and his vision swims. But Bertrude knows the land better than the others could ever hope, knows the taste and texture of every flower, weed, reedy plant with strings that sing in the wind. Recently, in cooking Hedwyn cooks the most and they eat their silt as best they can, as there are only so many edibles in the Downside. Recently, in cooking Hedwyn cooks the most and they eat their silt as best they can, as there are only so many edibles in the Downside.Īs the older often do, Bertrude gives her advices, as she is always correct. special thanks to laughingpinecone for her help!Īs the older often do, Bertrude gives her advices, as she is always correct. Happy molten crone summer and fourth anniversary for pyre, may our fandom stay hot and our crones hotter. A Spoonful of Sugar (Big Bertrude, Hedwyn, 1024 words, worksafe)
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