Post by Lirriel on Oct 19, 2017 20:17:45 GMT -5
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je m’enivre de ce poison
The rolling green hills had beckoned her.
Marie steps across the ground with an easy stride, head level with the slope of her shoulders. Her ears are pricked forward, eyes roving the endless sea of grass – there are delicacies to be found here, if she knows only where to look.
She has traveled here before. On her last trip she sampled hare and stoat. The hare, she had found, lacked much of the fat its western cousins carried – there had been a dryness to its meat, but it still soaked up the taste of blood, lending it a flavor that was savory and gamey. The weasel was not quite up to pare – she had expected as much, though. Predators were always a greasier meat, and in her time she had found that preparation of the meal carried a great deal of weight in ensuring the experience was pleasant. But even with the grease pounded from it—
—Well, she had found it too stringy. The tiny bones splintered to shards between her molars, and she had spent several torturous weeks carrying a wedge of bone she could not dislodge. Only chewing on the discarded antlers of a deer had finally rid her of the troublesome sliver.
Now, she smiles as she spots her target: buffalo berries. The red berries weight down a slender tree, and her speed quickens as she approaches. She has had the thought, recently, that perhaps she might find a snake, kill it, and stuff its gaping mouth with berries – these are a tart species, and she has sampled them before. But, she has never tasted poison, and she wonders if the acidity might offset the flavor of the snake’s flesh.
Not that she is aware how a snake yet tastes – but she enjoys the sharp bite of buffalo berries, enjoys most sour things, really. So, it makes sense that her first foray into such delights be accompanied by a flavor she often partakes in.
With a pleased hum, she begins to pluck at the berries, gently tugging them off one by one and depositing on the ground near her paws. Berries are too easily bruised, and she must have these perfect for meal; she is, after all, a gourmet.
Marie steps across the ground with an easy stride, head level with the slope of her shoulders. Her ears are pricked forward, eyes roving the endless sea of grass – there are delicacies to be found here, if she knows only where to look.
She has traveled here before. On her last trip she sampled hare and stoat. The hare, she had found, lacked much of the fat its western cousins carried – there had been a dryness to its meat, but it still soaked up the taste of blood, lending it a flavor that was savory and gamey. The weasel was not quite up to pare – she had expected as much, though. Predators were always a greasier meat, and in her time she had found that preparation of the meal carried a great deal of weight in ensuring the experience was pleasant. But even with the grease pounded from it—
How to prepare a stoat:
Step One: Break the beast’s legs, so it cannot run.
Step Two: Carry it to a previously-prepared location, where it is unable to quickly find cover or dart into a burrow.
Step Three: Toss the animal. Allow it to try and crawl away. Bash it against rocks. Fling it into the dirt. The pelt will become matted, but it is easily stripped.
Step Four: Once it has been sufficiently pounded to tenderness, take off the head. Swallow and crunch the tiny bones, pop the eyes. Or bury it, if it is unappealing.
Step Five: Catch it by the skin around the neck, hold it down with one paw, and strip the skin off with a sharp yank.
Step Six: The bloody carcass is left. Devour as you please.
Step One: Break the beast’s legs, so it cannot run.
Step Two: Carry it to a previously-prepared location, where it is unable to quickly find cover or dart into a burrow.
Step Three: Toss the animal. Allow it to try and crawl away. Bash it against rocks. Fling it into the dirt. The pelt will become matted, but it is easily stripped.
Step Four: Once it has been sufficiently pounded to tenderness, take off the head. Swallow and crunch the tiny bones, pop the eyes. Or bury it, if it is unappealing.
Step Five: Catch it by the skin around the neck, hold it down with one paw, and strip the skin off with a sharp yank.
Step Six: The bloody carcass is left. Devour as you please.
—Well, she had found it too stringy. The tiny bones splintered to shards between her molars, and she had spent several torturous weeks carrying a wedge of bone she could not dislodge. Only chewing on the discarded antlers of a deer had finally rid her of the troublesome sliver.
Now, she smiles as she spots her target: buffalo berries. The red berries weight down a slender tree, and her speed quickens as she approaches. She has had the thought, recently, that perhaps she might find a snake, kill it, and stuff its gaping mouth with berries – these are a tart species, and she has sampled them before. But, she has never tasted poison, and she wonders if the acidity might offset the flavor of the snake’s flesh.
Not that she is aware how a snake yet tastes – but she enjoys the sharp bite of buffalo berries, enjoys most sour things, really. So, it makes sense that her first foray into such delights be accompanied by a flavor she often partakes in.
With a pleased hum, she begins to pluck at the berries, gently tugging them off one by one and depositing on the ground near her paws. Berries are too easily bruised, and she must have these perfect for meal; she is, after all, a gourmet.
| open | stock by ria p. |
| come dine with marie! | |
à en perdre la raison.
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