A Writing Prompt Every Day in October: Day 4

“And these spices! It’s like a Wintermorn festival in my mouth!”

Day 4. Had kind of a slow, weird start to today and couple real-life things to take care of, but the idea for this one actually came pretty easily.

Pela Strahlend sits with the other five members of the Lyte Brigade around her parents’ dining room table. The others — Nolan, Matilda, Falcata, Amara, and Tancred — all gaze expectantly at her.

“Thanks for helping with this, guys,” she tells them. “I’m sure my dad is really going to appreciate this.”

“Happy to be here,” Tancred answers.

To be perfectly honest, while he is glad to help a guildmate, he isn’t exactly happy to be here, specifically.

The five taller, larger members of the Lyte Brigade are making a valiant, though not entirely successful, attempt to fit around a dining room table intended to sit neither a group of such number nor such stature. The Strahlend family home is perfectly-sized and its furniture perfectly-proportioned for a Dwarf chef, his Goblin wife and their daughter. Less so for that daughter’s substantially larger, taller companions.

For her part, Pela is not exactly enjoying her guildmates’ discomfort per se, though she can’t help but feel a brief, fleeting moment of satisfaction at this sudden turnabout. Back at the Lyte Brigade’s usual meeting spot, Pela is the only one who doesn’t fit at the table, struggling to see over the edge of a table not designed for the short. Sitting comfortably is a welcome change of pace.

Falcata is in particularly dire straights. The towering Amazon has to hug her knees nearly to her chest to be able to fit at the table. She has almost hit her forehead against the house’s doorjambs more times than she would care to admit. However, she bears it all with her typical disciplined, uncomplaining stoicism.

“What exactly are we supposed to be helping with, Pela?” Matilda asks.

“The Prince’s younger sister is getting married soon,” Pela explains. “Dad’s been hired to cook for the wedding. He has some new recipes he wants to try. And I, uh, volunteered.”

“Volunteered us, you mean,” Amara notes.

“Well, yeah,” Pela admits. “But, hey, guilds have to stick together, right? Anyway, Dad’s going to cook for us.” She points to the corner of the dining room. “And Mom’s going to take notes.”

The Goblin woman in the corner of the room looks over the rims of her glasses to the members of the Lyte Brigade. “It’s nice to finally meet you all,” she tells them. “Pela’s said all sort of good things about you.”

Pela’s father, a middle-aged Dwarf whose hair seems to have all migrated to his chin and arms comes into dining room, carrying a large casserole. He sets down the dish and cuts a serving for each of the six members of the Lyte Brigade.

“Well?” he asks anxiously as the Lyte Brigade eats. “How is it? You can really taste the moose tongue, right?”

Nolan’s fork falters midway to his mouth. His hand begins to tremble as he looks down at the morsel speared on its tines. “The what now?”

“I’m kidding,” Pela’s father assures them.

Nolan frowns. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s ox tongue.”

That’s not funny!”

It’s so good!

The sudden, unexpected exclamation catches the Lyte Brigade by surprise. Five pairs of eyes drift in the direction of the speaker.

“What?” Matilda asks defensively.

“A-are you really enjoying this, Miss Matilda?” Tancred asks, turning almost as green as Pela.

She nods. “It’s delicious! I’ve never had tongue this tender! ” She stuffs another forkful into her mouth. “And these spices! It’s like a Wintermorn festival in my mouth!”

She frowns at her guildmates as they continue to regard her like a woman gone mad.

“It’s not my fault you’re a bunch of cowards,” she mutters. “Live a little, guys.”

She vanquishes her serving with the ruthless, ravenous speed of a Turboshark in a feeding frenzy — a sight which does no favours for the already-dubious appetites of the others and holds up her plate.

“Is there more?”

This one was pretty fun to write. My biggest challenge was deciding which character was going to be the one to enjoy the ox tongue casserole.

I decided on Matilda both because it seemed most out of character and because I figured she earned it after I had Sally invade her bed and kick her in the face.

Also, as a brief addendum: Facebook and Instagram have been down basically all day, so if this doesn’t get posted there today, it will once they start working again.

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