20th of Summer .
16 Bells .
16 Bells .
Retracing her steps along the shore, Anais made her way from the fish cleaning station back to her casinor, the morning’s spoils cradled gingerly in her arms. Her shirt and trousers were mottled with the red and brown stains of blood, reminders of the grisly work she’d attempted with another Sykan settler, Ixtli. The other woman had been very educational, and Anais felt as though she’d learned a lot, but the real payment for her efforts, and the reason she hadn’t minded the ruining of her clothing was the yellowish lumpy collection of pig fat she now possessed. It was the color or fresh butter, shot through with bits of white viscera and red veins, and Anais wrinkled her nose at the pungent aroma even as she eagerly planned what she would do with the stuff.
Though many people would see the lard and know its benefits for cooking, Anais planned to use it for more candles – she’d used beef tallow, the fat from butchered cows, and assumed the process for candles made from pig fat would be the same. It would need to be melted down, and any bits of pig meat still remaining would have to be removed, but after the rendering were done, the Svefra planned to dip her candles much as she would if it were beeswax. Syna’s light was aggressive this day, and although Anais would have rather waited until evening or even the next morning to process the raw material, the temperature would not allow her to wait. The package of pig fat already smelled of blood, not badly exactly, but the scent was not as clean or appealing as the beeswax that she usually worked with. She worried that her finished products might carry some of that smell over - and who wants a candle that smells like burning blood?
She rolled her shoulders as she walked, attempting to relive a bit of the tightness that had crept into her muscles. The butchery hadn’t been strenuous – Ixtli had already hung and bled the pig by the time Anais stumbled upon her – the tiny, tedious cuts and meticulous focus that the work had required had resulted in more soreness than the blonde would have expected. But there was more work to do than usual, and rest and relaxation would have to wait until it finished. As she approached her casinor, she ran through the list of tasks in her mind: render the lard, for at least a bell. She took another small sniff of her package and amended the thought: maybe two. Cut the wicks – how many? She had no idea how much lard would be usable after the rendering, whether it would yield 20 pairs of candles or 50 or 10. That number would be a deciding factor in whether or not she continued to use the readily available lard of Syka’s native swine or set up a steady import of beeswax with Juli and James.
Boarding her casinor, Anais quickly collected the crate of candle-making supplies from the corner of her cabin and removed it and her pig lard back to the communal kitchens, to make use of the cooking area. The wooden box had traveled the Suvan with her for years, and held not only her well-used supplies, but also the stubby, uneven remnants of a few old candle stubs and her fire starting kit and what remained of her beeswax. The smell of the wax was clean and faintly sweet, but did nothing to cover the earthier meaty-bloody smell of pig lard. With a resigned sigh, she set the entire bundle down at the nearest cooking station and began laying out her supplies.
.
Though many people would see the lard and know its benefits for cooking, Anais planned to use it for more candles – she’d used beef tallow, the fat from butchered cows, and assumed the process for candles made from pig fat would be the same. It would need to be melted down, and any bits of pig meat still remaining would have to be removed, but after the rendering were done, the Svefra planned to dip her candles much as she would if it were beeswax. Syna’s light was aggressive this day, and although Anais would have rather waited until evening or even the next morning to process the raw material, the temperature would not allow her to wait. The package of pig fat already smelled of blood, not badly exactly, but the scent was not as clean or appealing as the beeswax that she usually worked with. She worried that her finished products might carry some of that smell over - and who wants a candle that smells like burning blood?
She rolled her shoulders as she walked, attempting to relive a bit of the tightness that had crept into her muscles. The butchery hadn’t been strenuous – Ixtli had already hung and bled the pig by the time Anais stumbled upon her – the tiny, tedious cuts and meticulous focus that the work had required had resulted in more soreness than the blonde would have expected. But there was more work to do than usual, and rest and relaxation would have to wait until it finished. As she approached her casinor, she ran through the list of tasks in her mind: render the lard, for at least a bell. She took another small sniff of her package and amended the thought: maybe two. Cut the wicks – how many? She had no idea how much lard would be usable after the rendering, whether it would yield 20 pairs of candles or 50 or 10. That number would be a deciding factor in whether or not she continued to use the readily available lard of Syka’s native swine or set up a steady import of beeswax with Juli and James.
Boarding her casinor, Anais quickly collected the crate of candle-making supplies from the corner of her cabin and removed it and her pig lard back to the communal kitchens, to make use of the cooking area. The wooden box had traveled the Suvan with her for years, and held not only her well-used supplies, but also the stubby, uneven remnants of a few old candle stubs and her fire starting kit and what remained of her beeswax. The smell of the wax was clean and faintly sweet, but did nothing to cover the earthier meaty-bloody smell of pig lard. With a resigned sigh, she set the entire bundle down at the nearest cooking station and began laying out her supplies.
.
