Tonight is quite more eventful than the others. The huntsmen of the tribe accidentally stumbled upon an injured "Basmu", a type of land mammal that has a head of a bird of prey and a body of a slender hound. The meat tastes horrible but it is still better than nothing, so they decided it would be the tribe dinner for the night. Naturally, those who did the hunting will get to eat first. But it seems the huntsmen know dinner would not be up to their taste so the children would have the first bow of the god-know-what stew their mothers seem to create.

"Ughh it smells soooo gross!"

The boys yell in unison

Lizzy stares at the boiling pot in front of her. She has eaten way more disgusting things when she went foraging with her father. Her indifferent stomach rather gulfs all of them down than eat another feces-infested worm.

"Quit your whining. Unless you are the hunter, keep the complaint to yourself."

None dares to voice their opinion. The children know this is probably the only meal they will have for the next few days.

They can't complain about the horrible situation they are in nor can they go out to play in such hailstorms. The biggest boy sees that Lizzy just sits quietly at the kettle and said

"Lizzy probably won't mind, she will even eat poo if given the chance"

The boys laugh loudly then give each other a high five as if one of them has done a glorious deed.

"At least if I eat poo, I will have the strength to overcome winter. Good luck dragging your fat belly across the snowstorm exhausted and hungry"

He freezes, his friends can't believe what they have heard and explode in laughter
.

"Ughh...what...did you..just say?" The boy clenches his fist.

"What are you gonna do? You fat-muck"

Well, he tried to fight her before, but girls at this age grow faster than boys so he didn't stand a chance against Lizzy's relentless fury.

"Splat"

A spoon went down her head with all the force of love and anger.

"Mom? He started it." Lizzy grunts under her breath.

"I don't care which one started it, you lass and lassy can not sit down and be quiet for a moment"

Lizzy glanced at the boy, seeing his ear being dragged to the sky. Justice is raining down his stupid face.

" Where is Eskel?" she murmurs.

Outside the heart-warn tent sat a small child, clenching his winter hat shut and put his back close to the wall, grasping for the heat fuming from the fire stove. Grown-ups rarely care about the affairs of children, even less so when the child is not theirs.

Suddenly, a hot bowl was placed onto his head, melting away the snow residue and awaken the slumbering child.
"Eskel, are you trying to be an ice popsicle?"
Lizzy stands tall over the shivering boy, two hot bowls of basmu soup in hand. She hands him the meal and nonchalantly sits down next to him.
"Umm... thanks?"
"Don't mention it, rather you eat it than one more for me". Lizzy's head tilts backward, looking up at the snow-covered sky.

The aroma of the soup overwhelms their senses. All variants of sweet, sour, and spicy dull the tongue of the bitterness of the oversized bird's meat
------------
What seem to be the problem chieftan ?"

Four men hurried themselves into the largest tent in the tribe. The smoke fuming from the center bonfire clouded the vision of any pesky children preying on any gossip that one was not meant to hear. There seem to be a reason why they were summoned just barely after dinner and all the young one hurried themselves for a last play before being tucked to bed.

Sitting at the back of the tent is a huge figured hunched over the fireplace. Her finger constantly swirling the kettle despite the piping hot soup, everyone gathers themselves in the circle and settle on their designated seat as if they had done this a thousand time.

"Terrible dinner, isn't it". The figure glanced at every adult, her crooked nose peak out of the bushy hair that was well-combed for such an old lady.

"Usually Basmu was never meant to be on the dinner table, no matter what. They are sacred to this land, and to other tribes, they are symbol of prosperity."

The tall lady said in a mocking tone.

If you stack three adult on top of each others. They would barely reach her hight standing up. And mind you, she is hunched over for most of the Notai's memory. Even sitting down, the old lady still towers everyone.

"I myself mind not what kind of meat and where it came from. As long as it is meat and not a week rotten in this accursed winter."

She pulled her finger out of the piping hot kettle, flesh almost peeled off near the fingernail. But almost an instant, her thumb springs back to life as if nothing happened.

"But tradition is tradition. We respect others' belief and they return respect ours."

The adult looks at each others, still have no idea what the old lady was trying to say.

"And Old One, we still ate the bird."

"Haha. Yes indeed, blasphemy we committed."

No one has any idea if she was kidding or not. When she smiled, her toothy grin revealed a row of wierdly unbalannced sharp teeth that scared the children and some of the young adult away.

"But i gave no shit who i offended and what deity i sacrilige. We all have to survive some way."

She tossed the hunter sitting near her a thigh of an animal that was currently digesting in their stomach.

"This is why i summoned all of you"

Everyone knows the bird taste so horrible ,the hunter rather supplied themselves with a handful of berries and the broth that was so condensed, they could just gulped it all down and pretend what entered were gourment of Minas Svartall.

But strangely, embedded in the meat was some kind bite mark.

"Joergun, do you know what animals can cause such wound?"

Lizzie's father rose up to the bonfire, flying cinder all got caught in his magnificient beard.

"I'm afraid not. Old one, i can see a vague resemblance of an elder frostfang attack, but no animal has two line of jaws."

Everyone grows anxious at the information given out by the veteran hunter. Basmu is ,by no mean, weak and fragile. Anything that can withstand the harsh winter of this land is a formidable opponent whether prey or predator.

"Of course, a pack of frostfang could in theory, bring down the bird." Joergun pondered while wiping ash from his beard.

"Quite possible, but then this is the only bite mark we see on the whole body."
-------------------

"May i ask, old one." A woman barely passed her twenty, raised her arm.

"Speak your mind, child"

"I went to labor two winter ago and i bit on dulll wood a lot. This may sound unreasonable but this young one think."

The girl took out a piece of Drine wood out of her waist bag.

"The bite mark looks a lot like mine."