prompt 23 // parched
The long summer evening was spent plucking branches and pine cones from the forest floor. The Xaelan man wasn’t sure if the recent rains of the current moon would provide good, parched wood for a proper fire, but he’d take the sodden branches and other discarded foliage anyway.
After all, he had a hard time procuring Steppe-sourced meat. Or, at least, he was shown and convinced that the packaged mutton tied to his belt was from the Steppes. Meat was meat, for all Kaidu really thought initially - but he was convinced that Steppe raised dzo, sheep, and horse were of a higher quality than anything he ever had in his many moons in Eorzea.
By the time he’d finish rationalizing thoughts about Eorzean produce battling against the Steppe’s, Kaidu was back at where he called home: Nhaama’s Haven.
Customarily, he’d let out his distinct yell alerting his fellow tribemates that he’d arrived home, but he didn’t really get any response today. He knew Kete was squirreled away in his room with an immense heat pouring forth from the crack under his door, as he’d discover that morn.
Ancestors know what’s going on in there. He smirked with that thought, “Burn the place down, my arse.”
“But where is everyone else?”
“Syf has her own place,” Kaidu began, walking downstairs to the kitchen. “I think she said she did, right?” Drawn immediately to the spice rack, he ran his long, calloused digits across the neatly labled, squinting and inspecting each with a cautionary sniff, plucking several out and exchanging bottles before he gave a satisfactory nod.
“That’s good enough.”
His tail swished aimlessly behind him as he turned to place all his gathered ingredients on the counter, ready to prepare his favorite, summer meal - grilled mutton chops.
“Jyaki.. doesn’t have a place. Does she still sleep on the couch?” Kaidu stopped his preparations in a moment of thought, not wishing to cut off a finger right in the middle of his meal prep. That would really suck. “Maybe she has a room.”
“Icarus. Nhaama help him.” The Xaelan man resumed his work, quieting himself.
Perhaps he became too focused. That usually happened when he would cook, but he always refused so as of late, as it steered thoughts towards home...
--
“<...Leave the fat on when you trim it,>” Algedai shadowed the smaller form of younger Kaidu, hand hovering whilst the boy neatly trimmed the fat from smaller, cubed pieces of mutton.
“<You’re cutting too much off! Just a little!>”
--
“Oh.” Kaidu was brought back into the present as he felt the knife’s edge flush against his finger, ready to carve down into the darkened flesh of his.
“Nhaama, help me..”
--
The day was drawing to a close, and Kaidu was now outside the estate, neatly tending an aromatic, smoking fire with an iron poker. His mutton was neatly skewered and dripping sizzling fat into the fanning flames, almost ready for consumption.
It wasn’t often he cooked, as it reminded him of his past, but when he did - he truly enjoyed the fruits of his creation. Too bad he didn’t have anyone to share his charred meat with.
Kaidu Kha spent the evening watching the stars and suckling the velvety marrow from bones, looking quite pleasant and relaxed for once.
“I’m glad I left.”
