[u]Lyn[/u]

Lyn smiled, slightly relieved someone had noticed her problem, and nodded in agreement to show her understanding. Again, her middle growled like some fierce beast and dug deeper, making her wiggle in place where she sat. She watched eagerly as Ssarak finished his conversation with Mei then paced around the table to where she was located. Not waiting for long, Lyn swung her legs about the wooden bench and hop off just when the Esyire approached. When her soles hit the hard floor she raised her hand to take Ssarak’s, no longer covered by steel gauntlet, and tightly squeezed it while he lead the way.

Her hunger seemed to grow with their distance closing in. Thicker the smells became until it seemed to wash over her in a pleasant wave and her eyes lit up in enjoyment. The warmth from the fire stroked over her skin, chasing any remaining cold from her easily, letting her eyes wander. There was little fear about being separated since her hand was secured by Ssarak. Bodies crowded about the man with the soup pot, his ladle dipped in and scooped a portion into a wooden bowl for each request. He only paused when it came to cutting into the chickens still roasting on the fire where they were prevented from cooling. Their flesh had slightly blackened and crisp, tickled by the wafting heat and dripped into the fire’s very core where they sizzled into nothing. 

After he had maneuvered her past the other rustling patrons, he then asked her what she would like. Inattentively she flicked out her narrow, snake like tongue to absorb the scents in the same fashion as she inwardly debated on what she wanted. Mei had mentioned something about barley soup and it had made her curious, but that wasn’t what Ssarak had asked. 

Her finger pointed at the chicken showing him she usually ate meat. Despite the truth, her eyes drifted back to the scents coming from the pot and bread, a slight desire lingering in her face. It seemed like it might be good. Namely since Mei had seemed to like it. Though she hadn’t counted on the fact that the broth might not last long within her system (fact stated by Mar) and that meant she would be hungry again a few hours later. For some odd reason meat, either raw or cooked, lasted longer in her system and seemed to be an inherited trait from her mother. Another thought was it was because she was growing at an extreme rate. 

‘I eat meat…but…’ Lyn hadn’t pried her eyes away from the pot still. Part of her wished her mother was here since she would know what to do and how to handle it, namely ensuring none of the food went to waste.