Salamander Campfire, Saturday Night

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

A little research and a quick shopping trip (which he probably shouldn't have taken, since now his back was hurting a little bit) had netted Anders a nice cast-iron Dutch oven. Said Dutch oven had then been cleaned and seasoned, and was now nestled comfortably in the coals at the Salamander cabin campfire, a six-cupcake baking tray filled with chocolatey batter inside.

There was a pitcher full of more cupcake batter on a nearby log, oven mitts and tongs near the fire, and an Anders happily sampling the results of his campfire-baking test run.

Would it have been easier for him to just go down to J,GoB and buy cupcakes? Sure. But dammit, he'd wanted to find out if he could do it. So there.

[OOC: Open, with fresh, if slightly gooey, cupcakes! Also, really slow/flakey/nonexistent comment notifications, so apologies in advance for slowness.]

Comments

[justmisplaced.livejournal.com]

"Got to agree with you on that one," Shawn said. "The lack of privacy blows, and now... kinda put off the idea of getting out into the preserve in order to get it."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Oh, dude, tell me about it." Anders glowered and reached over his shoulder to prod lightly at one of the sutures in his back. "Did that guy get you too?"

[justmisplaced.livejournal.com]

"Not me," Shawn said. "Watched him axe my girfriend, though. Not a fan of psychos who almost kill people I care about. Deserved every bit of what he got."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Sure as hell did," Anders muttered fiercely. "Wish he hadn't taken a chunk out of me, or I'd have helped go after him for what he did to Phoebe."