playing by the golden rule

The heat was unbearable today, which he honestly hadn't seen coming. During the worst of the mid-afternoon sun, he was tucked away in the shade of the stone Obelisk. The massive stone still radiated some of the night's cold, and the shade kept the worst of the heat off of him. It also kept the morning's harvest from spoiling.. somewhat. He was working fast to shuck the oysters and mussels that he'd plucked from the deep waters along the rockiest part of the shores, returning the meat to the briny waters that he'd been keeping the shelled creatures inside. Leaving them there would keep them from becoming inedible, and then he could add some other odds and ends before simply cooking the whole pot. Add some fresh summer tubers, a few aromatics, and maybe some mushrooms if he could find the kind he liked. Then it was a passable soup. He missed the hand crafted dumplings that his mother used to add when they had the funds, but there wasn't much to be done about that.

The discarded shells were being piled up beside himself, where he intended to try and sharpen them into some variety of utensils later. Flattening out one edge and sharpening it worked surprisingly well as a blade for preparing foods, but less so as a proper weapon for battle. Not that he would need it for anything of the sort, as no more than a maid nowadays. Still, the thought did crop up every now and again. One of the smaller mussels yielded a tiny morsel of meat, which he didn't hesitate to slurp quietly into his mouth. A little treat while he worked. No one was around to see it anyways, nor did anyone seem particularly invested in keeping an eye on his every move anymore.

The little pot was getting close to full, but he still had more than a few pawfuls of oyster left. He'd gotten overzealous with his harvest. The dark waif turned his attention to the cellars on the other side of the clearing, where he knew there was likely a few larger kettle-pots tucked away. But the shade was so nice... He could simply eat the remaining harvest before it spoiled, he supposed. The end of his ebony banner thumped lightly against the warm, lush grass as he took a moment to consider his options.