CH 21 — Saffron
Saffron awoke not to the sound of terrified cries or clashing blades, but to the pleasant crackling of a low fire. And then there was the smell! Baked fish and eggs on fragrant leaves. It hadn’t handpicked these for vem, but recognized the smell from its day among the underbrush and trees.
Some of those same trees contained large green leaves, sturdy enough to bear the weight of heavy raindrops and small birds. They were fun to chew on, too. Saffron wouldn’t put any in a salad, but they made excellent plates.
The wolf had to half crawl to leave the tent, being too tall to stand comfortably in it. Once outside, it gave its body a brisk shake, enjoying the shift of fur and gentle breeze on its skin. It wrapped the ritual up with a nice big stretch, groaning in relief at the crack of bones in its spine and limbs.
