I felt my brows knit together as I processed Noah's words. He was talking about 'soft-coated beasts' and 'fishtails'... It's unlikely he was calling tribal names and his uncertainty makes it even more confusing.
If we have a place we can get salt, it's fine, but the location was the real kicker. If the salt was near the first tribe, and we couldn't reach that tribe before the snow, we were in for a very bland, and very difficult winter.
"So the salt is at our destination," I muttered, more to myself than to them. I looked at the small pouch of white crystals, feeling the weight of our situation. "That's not ideal, but we'll have to make do. We can smoke the meat to preserve it without salt if we have to, though it won't taste nearly as good."
Back to eating bland meat, huh? I suddenly feel bad since I might not be able to swallow or eat to my full if it's bland.
As if they could see through my worries, they came to a decision while I was stuck in my thoughts.
