"He hunted and killed the insects. I only collected the eggs."
Hawke watched the unfolding events in silence. That hadn't exactly been the case; the insects weren't even prey to begin with, more of a setback than spoils, but he wasn't in the mood to argue. He let her version hang in the air.
The old woman studied Hawke from head to toe. Her eyes narrowed, assessing him. Trying to remember that face.
"Who is he? I don't remember that face."
"It's Hawke, Grandma." Kaira replied with impressive naturalness. "Your memory hasn't been very good lately; it must be the hunger. Don't you remember that time he caught fish with us?"
'Hey, I never did that. Stop making things up.'
Hawke thought so hard that he almost let the word slip out. He clenched his teeth and kept his face neutral.
For a moment, the old woman frowned, confused. Her gaze swept over Hawke's face as if trying to decipher an unknown script. Then, miraculously, the wrinkled face broke into a toothless smile.
"AAAAH! Good man! Strong man!"
Before Hawke could react, the old woman crossed the distance surprisingly quickly and hugged him. Thin but strong arms wrapped around his waist, squeezing with a force that didn't seem to belong to that frail body.
"You brought food! You're amazing! You deserve a treat!"
"Treats? What kind of treats?"
The old woman stepped back, stretched onto her tiptoes, and patted his shoulder with unmistakable approval; three firm, almost friendly pats. Then she turned unceremoniously and returned her attention to the bag of food, her nimble hands separating the items like someone sorting treasures.
While the old woman was distracted fiddling with the eggs and insects, Kaira leaned slightly toward Hawke. She pointed discreetly.
"Hawke, that's Grandma." The voice was low, almost confidential. "She's the leader of the group. She's the one who decides everything."
'You call this a group?'
Hawke kept the sarcasm to himself. He looked around; the empty cave, the two women, the piled-up bones. Group seemed a generous word for what he saw.
Then Kaira pointed to the girl with black hair, who had stood up and was now watching Hawke with intense curiosity, her hands timidly hidden behind her back.
"And this is Yuka."
Yuka nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. Her large eyes were fixed on him. She said nothing. She just looked like someone seeing something new and interesting for the first time in their life.
Hawke tried very, VERY consciously not to look at her absurdly large breasts.
"Focus on her face. Her eyes. Just her eyes." Yuka approached the bag, her gaze shining with a hunger that went beyond mere physical needs. The old woman had already taken the insects out of the sack and arranged them on the ground, lined up like soldiers in formation.
"I'm hungry," Yuka said softly, almost in a whisper. "You finally found something."
Hawke realized from the tone that this wasn't the first time Kaira had gone out alone. Even with Grandma's orders, she didn't usually follow the rule. Waiting in the cave, motionless, patient, didn't seem like her style. At least this time, unlike the others, she would be able to return with something.
Yuka's hand slowly reached out to pick up an egg.
*SLAP.*
Grandma struck her hand with a dry crack that echoed through the cave. Yuka recoiled with a soft cry of pain, pressing her hand against her chest.
"OW! Grandma! Why did you do that?"
"Hunters first!" The old woman's voice hid no argument. "ALWAYS hunters first! They're the ones who took the risks! They're the ones who worked! They're the ones who need the energy the most!"
The old woman picked up one of the eggs with reverent care. It was large and heavy for an egg, the size of both her hands put together. Then she turned to Hawke and held out the egg as an offering.
"You. You eat first. You hunted. You deserve it."
Hawke looked at the egg.
It was... large and green with brown spots that could be dirt or could be a natural part of the shell. It smelled... strange. Not bad, not rotten, just different. Unknown. A smell of wet earth and something wild, something that had never been domesticated.
'It's a dinosaur egg. Or from some giant creature. Can you really eat this? Wouldn't it be harmful to your health? They eat them, right? And they're alive.'
His stomach churned slightly.
Technically, it was food. Protein. In a world of survival, you couldn't be picky. But…
His stomach said to eat it.
His brain refused.
"Take it!" The old woman shook the egg impatiently. "This one's yours! Hurry up, Grandma's hands are getting tired!"
Kaira and Yuka were watching too. Waiting. Yuka was still rubbing her sore hand, but her eyes didn't leave Hawke. Kaira had crossed her arms, a discreet smile on her lips, curious to see what he would do.
'Shit. I'll accept it. Maybe later I can convince my brain to eat it.' When hunger strikes hard, I doubt he'll have any demands. He won't win a battle against his stomach. We'll see who's in charge.'
His stomach still churned just looking at that greenish shell.
He raised his hands. He received the egg in them, feeling the strange weight, the warm temperature of the shell. Then he made a gesture of thanks, a nod, an uncertain movement that he hoped would be interpreted as courtesy.
'Maybe if I prepare it later, it will be more palatable.'
Fry it, he thought. On a hot surface. Transform it into something recognizable. Something that didn't seem so... primitive.
Maybe he would eat it after frying. Maybe. If it smelled even slightly edible. It would all be easier. Still, it was something he needed to learn in this world: to eat strange things. Varied things. Alive or dead, clean or dirty, recognizable or not.
That was what survival was all about, wasn't it?
adapting, evolving.