fandomhighdorms | Third Floor Common Room; Monday Morning [06/07].

It wasn't so much that the common room was filled with chocolate ice cream, as it had been on other mornings that insisted on throwing Astrid for a loop, but when she went upstairs to maybe get some breakfast started, she saw a bunch of it in the freezer and, all of a sudden, decided that was what she wanted for breakfast.

There was still plenty of stuff for a more traditional breakfast, too, it's just that after a few weeks of duds, Astrid didn't really have it in her to go through the effort of making a bunch of food that was just going to become leftovers, but if anyone else wanted to make some, there was literally nothing stopping them.

She did put on some coffee, though, and then went to get comfortable on the couch around her bowl of ice cream for breakfast, idly flipping through morning television shows while somewhere, far, far up north, a Canadian farmer stopped everything his was doing to glare into the horizon with a very strong sense of sudden disapproval.

Astrid figured she might regret ice cream for breakfast later, but, for now? It worked.

[[ open not-really-breakfast-but-could-be-breakfast is open! ]]

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Malia wandered in and watched Astrid for a long moment.

". . . Did the school replace the food again?"

Astrid shook her head, finishing a spoonful of ice cream before glancing over toward Malia.

"No," she explained. "I just didn't feel like making a whole bunch of food if no one was going to come and eat it."

Oh, how Wayne would be weeping at that, Astrid, were he not too manly to cry.

"But I can make some for you, of you want." She was already setting her bowl aside. "What're you hungry for?"

"Deer," Malia said, with relish.

She hadn't quite caught on to venison not being that common a dish in many human habitations.

It wasn't all that uncommom, at least not in Astrid's unique experiences, either, though, so she just took a moment to look at the fridge.

"I didn't pick up any of that," she admitted, "but I'm pretty sure we have some at the store." They did, after all, have almost anything. "I could go get some if you'd want to wait a little longer, but if not, there's sausage and bacon, as far as meat goes..."

Malia shrugged. "I can maybe try to hunt one down later." She meant that literally. "Sausage sounds good." She watched Astrid for a moment. "Can I, um. Watch you make it?"

She had no idea how to use a stove, but it seemed like something that would be useful for her to learn, if she was going to be stuck with two legs and two arms for the foreseeable future.

Well, she was a werecoyote, right? Was Astrid supposed to think she meant it any other way?

"You'll have to let me know," she said, unfolding her legs out from under her to stand up, "if the teal ones taste any different."

She shrugged, then, as she went to the fridge to pull out the meat she'd picked up. "And sure," she said. "There's not a whole lot to it, though..."

"They probably don't. They're hard to catch though." Mostly because she wasn't the most chatty of people.

She came over and hopped up onto the counter where she could get a good look.

"Pretty much any cooking seems like magic to me," she said with a shrug. "Not like I did a lot of it while I was a coyote."

"That's true," said Astrid, as if she knew, but, really, it just stood to reason. So, with the sausages out, she now went to go locate a pan.

"Could you still eat the raw?" she wondered. "Or does having a human stomach mean you can't digest them as well that way?"

She reached for the knob to turn on the stove after setting the pan down onto it, went to grab a little oil to put into it.

Malia shrugged. "I heal really fast, so it's not going to make me sick or anything. But it definitely tastes better cooked when I have a human mouth."

"Interesting," Astrid's head tilted a little, as if to indicate that she meant that sincirely, as she made a note to look up difference in taste buds between humans and canines.

She held an hand over the pan to sort of test the heat; could probably use a little longer, but she went ahead and poured in a little oil.

"So," she tossed her head slightly so she didn't have to touch her hair to get it out of the way, and opened the package of sausages, "how's your week been?"

"Quiet," Malia said after considering that question carefully for awhile. (She was still getting used to social niceties of small talk.) "I was out in the woods a lot."

"Hunting?" Astrid asked, andnthen wondered if that was being a little...racist? Presumptuous. "Getting the lay of the land?"

She tested the heat of the pan again before carefully dropping the fist sausage in with a satisfying sizzle.

“Basically. Hunting on two legs is hard. Everything is faster than me. But that preserve is huge so there’s a lot to explore.”

"I don't really go out there much." With the sausages all in the pan now, Astrid gave then a small poke with a pair of tongs, careful to not not let any of the grease splash up.

"I had a bad experience once," she decided to add. "In the woods on this island."

Back during that first summer here, three whole years ago, back when everything was still so strange and terrifying and she thought she was just going crazy and even with everything, the most terrifying thing was simply that Ingrid wouldn't love her anymore and now she wondered if Ingrid ever did to begin with...

Carefully, she rolled the sausages over to another side.

Malia's gaze bounced between the pan and Astrid's face.

"Did you get stalked by an alot or something?"

"....no," said Astrid, her eyes remaining on the sausages, although all they needed to do was sit there for a little bit. "By objectified, corporeal manifestations of my guilt and trauma."

Which, to be fair, was a lot.

Third Floor Common Room; Monday Morning [06/07].

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