The promises a man made when desire went to his head clearly could not be relied on. The next day, Losanda slept all the way until noon before crawling up from the beast-hide grass bed with an aching back and sore waist. Zidiao was sitting by the hearth, looking very well, carefully gluing feathers onto a feathered crown with fish glue, while a covered clay jar simmered beside her. He watched quietly for a while, until the woman noticed he was awake, picked up the clay jar by the hearth, took a wooden spoon, and handed them both to him.
"Luo! Drink the soup."
"What soup?"
"Venison stewed with potatoes!"
Losanda took the clay jar, opened it, and sniffed. His appetite was instantly stirred. He scooped up two spoonfuls, chewed the mushy pickled venison, and asked, "Have you eaten?"
"I have... Is it good?"
"It's good... Mm, it'd be even better with some chili!..."
Thinking of this, Losanda rummaged around his own unfamiliar home for the little jar that held chili. But when he opened it, though there was still some spiciness left inside, there was even more of a fresh fragrance.
"Where's the chili?"
"We finished it long ago. That's 'Fragrant Herb' inside. Do you want to add some?"
"Hm? Fragrant Herb? Let me taste... No. This stuff isn't spicy. It doesn't have enough kick!"
The "Fragrant Herb" the woman spoke of was the only fragrant seasoning found on the Kamchatka Peninsula, Arctic Thyme. But Losanda, who usually was not picky, suddenly became choosy in front of the woman and wanted something with more flavor. He scratched his head and thought for a while, then his eyes suddenly lit up, and he went out barefoot.
"Boots!"
"It's not cold. I'm sturdy!"
The sturdy Losanda dashed out of the tent,