As he spoke, he staggered to his feet and walked over to the bamboo basket. He pulled out the last coconut and, with great difficulty, began hacking at its shell with a bamboo knife and a dagger.
Erica opened her mouth, originally wanting to persuade him to take her two coconuts and not waste his energy.
But when she saw him putting on such a brave front, the words died on her lips. An image of her own father when he was sick surfaced in her mind.
Back then, he could barely walk steadily, yet he'd insist, "I'm fine," and force himself to make food for her.
'Could it be...'
At this thought, her eyes darted around as an idea began to form in her mind.
"I just tried the venison you were smoking last night. It's delicious, but I'm not sure if it's how you wanted it. The surface has the texture of semi-dried beef jerky, but the inside is tender like smoked meat, very juicy, and the flavor has really soaked through."
