72nd day of Summer, 514 AV
Tonight was Alaia’s turn to cook meals for any of those living at the Sanctuary and she wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to make or how she was going to make it. Cooking wasn’t her best skill just yet; in fact it was probably one of her worst so all she could pray for was not making something utterly terrible. Currently the Konti was curled up in the middle of the garden with her sketch pad on her knee and charcoal smudged on her hand, face and even on the back of her neck where she had an itch earlier. Her steady gaze was fixed on a plant, the name of which she was unsure of just yet, and she was drawing the curve of the one of the leaves when her stomach growled in protest. Time had slipped past her faster then she had thought and the grumble of her hunger jolted her from the trance she always got in when she drew. She wasn’t done with her copy of the plant and just as she placed the tip of her charcoal back down her stomach gave another lurch.
With a sigh the healer rose to her feet, stiff in all the right places that came after sitting for so long. Slowly she stretched from her webbed toes all the way up to her hands which were still holding the sketchpad and charcoal. Giving the plant a farewell nod Alaia moved to head back down into the lower portion of the Sanctuary and put her drawing away in her quarters. It was different here from living at the Pearl House full of other Konti’s and right on bustling docks of the city. She hadn’t been here long but she already found her feet carried her around the grounds and through hallways she didn’t think she’d ever get used to. Her body was getting used to the twists and turns and she was sure she could probably navigate some parts blind folded now.
After dropping off her sketchpad to her room Alaia made her way to the kitchen, which wasn’t far off, and ran a charcoal stained hand through her hair getting some of the dust into the light golden strands as well. The scents that always seemed to linger in the kitchen greeted her nose and she smiled despite her trepidation for cooking. There had to be a cookbook somewhere in the kitchen, Kavala couldn’t expect everyone to know how to cook when they came here could she?! No, Alaia doubted it though she was convinced her dear friend would pick on her if she messed this meal up beyond any recognition.
With a deep breath the Konti spent the first few minutes opening cupboards and prodding her nose into drawers trying to learn the layout of the various utensils, plus it took up more time this way and put off the disaster that was sure to be made with her hands. Maybe she should have asked someone for help but she was too stubborn and wanted to show her worth to the Sanctuary too much to lean on someone for such a menial task. A hum formed on her lips, it was slightly off tune but the melody was sweet and carefree – something her mother hummed when she was in the kitchen back on Mura. Alaia wondered if humming it would actually help her cook better though she knew realistically it wouldn’t there was still that childhood hope it would.
Finally she turned her attention to look for a book of recipes, anything that might guide her hand because that had to be better than her just mixing random things she didn’t know the name of. Shaking her head to herself it took a moment before a book was noticed and she trotted over to give it a peek. Lifting the cover, only wide enough to let in some light on the pages within, Alaia bent at the waist and peered at the text on the page. The last thing she wanted was to start reading something only to find out it was a personal journal of someone’s, she invaded people’s privacy enough for that.
“Cooking Fish.”
The words were scrawled in a neat hand and she smiled before pushing it open all the way open. Fish was something she knew, even if she didn’t know how to cook it she at least knew how it should taste. She could handle fish, or at least she hoped she could. With careful fingers she turned the pages as if any sudden movement would mar the book and leave it ruined, it wasn’t hers so she handled it with the utmost care. Most of the recipes were complicated, they spoke of various heating tools and herbs and spices and to be quite honest while she could understand obscure medical terms in common that talent did not seem to translate to cooking terms. Half of some of the pages were gibberish and she just let out a frustrated sigh.
With a sigh the healer rose to her feet, stiff in all the right places that came after sitting for so long. Slowly she stretched from her webbed toes all the way up to her hands which were still holding the sketchpad and charcoal. Giving the plant a farewell nod Alaia moved to head back down into the lower portion of the Sanctuary and put her drawing away in her quarters. It was different here from living at the Pearl House full of other Konti’s and right on bustling docks of the city. She hadn’t been here long but she already found her feet carried her around the grounds and through hallways she didn’t think she’d ever get used to. Her body was getting used to the twists and turns and she was sure she could probably navigate some parts blind folded now.
After dropping off her sketchpad to her room Alaia made her way to the kitchen, which wasn’t far off, and ran a charcoal stained hand through her hair getting some of the dust into the light golden strands as well. The scents that always seemed to linger in the kitchen greeted her nose and she smiled despite her trepidation for cooking. There had to be a cookbook somewhere in the kitchen, Kavala couldn’t expect everyone to know how to cook when they came here could she?! No, Alaia doubted it though she was convinced her dear friend would pick on her if she messed this meal up beyond any recognition.
With a deep breath the Konti spent the first few minutes opening cupboards and prodding her nose into drawers trying to learn the layout of the various utensils, plus it took up more time this way and put off the disaster that was sure to be made with her hands. Maybe she should have asked someone for help but she was too stubborn and wanted to show her worth to the Sanctuary too much to lean on someone for such a menial task. A hum formed on her lips, it was slightly off tune but the melody was sweet and carefree – something her mother hummed when she was in the kitchen back on Mura. Alaia wondered if humming it would actually help her cook better though she knew realistically it wouldn’t there was still that childhood hope it would.
Finally she turned her attention to look for a book of recipes, anything that might guide her hand because that had to be better than her just mixing random things she didn’t know the name of. Shaking her head to herself it took a moment before a book was noticed and she trotted over to give it a peek. Lifting the cover, only wide enough to let in some light on the pages within, Alaia bent at the waist and peered at the text on the page. The last thing she wanted was to start reading something only to find out it was a personal journal of someone’s, she invaded people’s privacy enough for that.
“Cooking Fish.”
The words were scrawled in a neat hand and she smiled before pushing it open all the way open. Fish was something she knew, even if she didn’t know how to cook it she at least knew how it should taste. She could handle fish, or at least she hoped she could. With careful fingers she turned the pages as if any sudden movement would mar the book and leave it ruined, it wasn’t hers so she handled it with the utmost care. Most of the recipes were complicated, they spoke of various heating tools and herbs and spices and to be quite honest while she could understand obscure medical terms in common that talent did not seem to translate to cooking terms. Half of some of the pages were gibberish and she just let out a frustrated sigh.
