Coco knelt beside the little pot, striking the flint until the sparks finally caught on the tinder. The firelight bled slowly into the hollow between the rocks as the smell of dry grass burning made them wrinkle their nose.
Dinner was going to be simple, it always was. Dried meat, a handful of hard beans, and whatever root vegetables they'd picked up in the last trade town. Nothing fancy, but warm enough to keep the night from taking too much
Behind them, Meadow hadn't moved much from her spot at the ravine's edge. She was still cross-legged, eyes half-lidded, the wind tugging at her hair and tunic. Every so often, her ears twitched — Coco wasn't sure if it was from the wind or because she was listening to something they couldn't hear.
"Food'll be ready in a bit," Coco called over a shoulder, half out of habit.
Meadow didn't look up, but she did shift closer, slow and deliberate, until she was within arm's reach of the fire. She crouched there, eyes fixed on the steam curling up from the pot.
"You hungry?" they asked, even though she couldn't answer in words.
Meadow's gaze briefly meets theirs, then the food. That was answer enough.
‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙
While the beans simmered, Coco pulled out a tin mug and began breaking up a stale biscuit into it. They poured in a little of the boiling water, softening the crumbs until they turned into something almost liquid. Meadow leaned forward slightly, watching every motion as if it were an elaborate ritual.
"Not much to see," he chuckled. "You just… throw things together and hope for the best. Works more often than you'd think."
Meadow reached out suddenly, her fingers hovering just over the pot. Coco tapped her hand gently away before she could burn herself.
"Careful," they warned. "It's hot."
She withdrew her hand, staring at the rising steam for another long moment. Then, to Coco's surprise, she leaned in just enough for the mist to touch her face, closing her eyes like she was memorizing the sensation.
Weird
‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙
When the food was ready, Coco ladled out two portions into two metal bowls. They passed one to Meadow, who accepted it with both hands, her posture almost ceremonial. She didn't start eating right away — instead, she examined the contents from every angle, poking the beans with the edge of her spoon before finally tasting one.
Her expression didn't change, but she ate carefully after that, taking small, deliberate bites. Coco caught themselves watching her again, the way her movements were precise but unhurried, as though she had all the time in the world.
Halfway through the meal, Meadow set her spoon down and rummaged in her tunic pocket, producing… a pebble. Small, smooth, gray. She placed it gently on the edge of Coco's bowl, then went back to eating without explanation.
Coco blinked at it. "…Thanks? I guess?"
No reaction. Just another bite of beans.
Meadow eventually finished her food and curled up on her side near the flames, eyes open but unfocused, like she was watching shapes form in the smoke.
Coco sat back, sipping the last of their own meal from the bowl, the pebble still sitting beside them. They didn't move it.