Summary: Several resistance members discuss sustainability, while others seem bent on undertaking a fool's errand.
Date: PHD 17
Related Logs: Related Logs None

Anthem stands by the coffee table, a mug of coffee in one hand - still steaming just a bit and mostly gone - and a grease pencil in the other. Spread all over the coffee table is a map of the environs. It's been arranged so that the nearest town and city and approximately in the center.

When Phaistion trots into the lodge for a break, he's covered in sweat and streaks of dirt, his shirt off and tucked to hang out of one back pocket. When he spots Anthem he heads over to the man, his eyes moving over the improvised map on the table. Before he can call out a greeting, he runs back outside once more, then returns with his sketchbook, flipping through the pages for the right one, "I have some stuff that can be added to that," he gets right to the point by way of greeting.

"Oh?" Anthem says, looking up. "What is there to add?" he asks, quite interested in anything that might help. He motions for the man to approach.

Phaistion sets the sketchbook down next to Anthem with the map of the territory that he and Passryn had spent two days scouting. "Well one of the more important things," A finger points at a mark on the map, "is this bee colony right here. We need to keep an eye on it for damage. Right now it's about the only measure we've got of the radiation levels up here. So far the hive is intact. If it starts sustaining damage, we'll know that our levels are increasing." Other things that are marked are various food sources and a large thicket of brambles.

Anthem grins at Phaistion. "Smart. Damn smart!" he says, obviously impressed. He points to two locations on the map - Paros and Osprey - a nearby city and town, respectively. "Though, I'm more interested in plotting routes to these two places," he responds. The marine drags a figure down highway 606, which comes rather close to the Gladwell resort that is only several miles away. "This should take us to Osprey. I'm hoping to get as far as Paros with a quick scouting mission. Four seems logical, since that's all the anti-rad we have. I want to get here-" he stabs Paros with a finger "-because it should have a hospital where we can grab some more so more of us can travel around if things get gross. They should also have some film-badges, which we could use." Anthem steps back from the map and looks up. "Angel also said that Monty should have a phonebook or the like. We ought to look through it for clinics or anything else that might have useful items. Travel goods stores, sporting stores, food warehouses, et cetera. I'm kind of upset I didn't think of it sooner."

"I can't take the credit for that one," Phaision is more than happy to give credit where it's due, "Passryn is the one that figured it out. She also found another colony intact a bit further down the mountain. Keeping an eye out for bees anywhere we scout is going to be a good idea." He pauses a moment to turn Anthem's words over in his mind. "I know that Tessa's told Monty the types of supplies she needs. There was some discussion about that the other night. My one request? Seeds. If you find any seeds, bring them back. Seed packets don't exactly take up much room, and the more things I can plant when I get the garden dug, the better. We seem to be getting more and more bellies to fill." The garden is an experiment to be sure, but anything that can help sustain them would be a boon.

Anthem nods. "Yeah. If I find some, I'll see what I can do. And I'm sure you'd like fertilizer and tools, potentially, for the future. If we find any, I'll make a note for future trips if we get brave enough to do it with vehicles." He grinds his teeth a moment, before he adds, "I also have a personal request, if you don't mind."

Phaistion shoots a grin of thanks in Anthem's direction, he hadn't even considered the idea of fertilizer and tools, at least beyond the shovel he's been using. "What do you need? I'll do my best to accomadate it." He scratches his chin, "Vitamin supliments would be good too, we've got at least one vegetarian up here, and I don't know if we'll be able to convince her to take meat."

Anthem snaps his fingers. "Vitamins and supplements. Good call, there." He taps his forehead. "Then again, we'll juts grab anything we come across. Whatever fits in a backpack." He grows a little more somber. "I've seen you using that pad. I'd be appreciative if you would do portraits of everyone, at some point. So we have something. Especially Monty." He grins slightly, though it seems a little sad. "If we survive all this, along with humanity, you might get famous for it."

"That was already on my list. I've got Passryn sketched so far," Phaistion nods in agreement. "I worry about burning through this book though, and it's the only one I've got with me. All I had was what was in my pack. I know it's kind of… frivolous, but I could use more, as well as charcoals and any types of art supplies. Not a high priority, obviously, but something for when someone has some extra room?"

"I'll see what I can do, but make Monty a priority. I think Angel would appreciate a picture of him, at least," Anthem says.

"I will," Phaistion's tone is equally somber and serious now. "I've only met him the once, but I like the old man. And he's our benefactor, we owe a lot to him, considering he's given us the roof over our heads, and what supplies he has. I'll get to work on that once I get a chance to study him by more than firelight." Since Anthem's shown an interest, he flips back a few pages to reveal the very lifelike sketch of the priestess, lovingly rendered in charcoal, seeming as though she's blazing with the light of battle. "That's the one I did of Passryn. I almost wonder if at some point Monty would let me claim one of the walls around here to work on a mural. A 'family portrait' so to speak."

Anthem laughs. "I like that idea, actually, and I bet he would." He looks at the picture. "That's good. Damn good. So, she lived up to expectations?"

"More than. She's a very interesting woman. Oddly? I really appreciate her bluntness." Phaistion has to chuckle at that, he's happy to have struck up a friendship with the woman, though he isn't certain if she thinks of their relationship as a 'friendship' or not. "I'd like to meet more of her people, it seems like they live an interesting life." Fidgetting for a moment, he pats his jeans down for his cigarettes. " She had another amazing idea last night. About talking to her people about trying to trap live hunting animals and 'domesticating' them, for a food source, since migration patterns might lead to a lot of contamination. Also, if we could catch geese and ducks and clip their flight feathers the right way so they can't fly, good sourse of eggs."

Anthem nods slowly. "You have a good head for logistics, and that's what is going to do the most to keep us alive. As for an amazing life, I guess. It's not the kind of life I'd choose for myself, at the very least." He looks down at the map. "The only thing is, the more we cultivate and domesticate, the less we can hide. And, I'm not sure how important each is yet. Perhaps I'm worrying too much."

Phaistion blushes a bit at the compliment while wearing a somewhat sheepish expression. "I'm just trying to think about living you know? I haven't got much to offer in the way of fighting, but no one can fight well if they're starving, so food needs to be a priority." A shoulder tugs upwards in a shrug, "I think the gyst of the animal idea was to keep them in the environs of the Precinct, but I'm not sure. I think her thinking is to keep them restrained to low contamination areas, so they know what they're eating. I think our personal best bet is to try and get ourselves a flock of duck and geese. With the lake not far from here, those wouldn't draw that much attention, really, I wouldn't think." He flips through a few more pages in the sketch book to display his idea for the garden. "I'm going to need tarps if you can manage to scrounge some up. See," He points to the diagram of an awning like frame work build over raised garden beds. "My thinking is to use them as an awning to keep out the contaminated rains. When the weather is bad we stretch and lash the tarps down to create a roof over the garden, then remove it for the sun to get in when it's nice."

Anthem nods slowly. "I'm wonderin' how much contamination there is really going to be. If nearby things were contaminated, we'd be suffering by now just from the local weather patterns. It's just a question of the faraway, highly populated places. But we might also have gotten lucky with the weather recently."

"I know. One of our biggest priorities is getting a geiger counter up here. Monty is right on with that one." Right now, everything has been all about estimation. "If the weather shifts, who knows what's going happen." The idea causes Phaistion to frown a bit. "I'm taking Dmitri's advice to heart about digging deep. I'm going to pull the soil for the beds from pretty far underground, where the rains probably haven't had a chance to seep through to yet." That would explain the fact that he's starting to look like a mudbaby again. "It's a lot of extra work, but probably really worth it."

"Always best to play it safe. The more problems you solve with a little extra elbow grease, the less problems you end up with," Anthem agrees. "Although, I'm not terribly worried about radiation. Usually it only matters if you get a lot of it at once, and there's terribly much we can do about what we've received already. But we ain't showin' a lot of signs of it, which is a relief. Nor are the animals."

Phaistion sits himself down near Anthem and finally gets around to actually lighting up his cigarette, almost purring with contentment as the nicotine hits his system. "That's been the one thing that's made me hopeful. No one seems to be sick so far. I just hope we can keep it that way. Thank the Lords we were all high up as we were when the shit hit the fan." It's still a lot to take in, everything that's occured. "I have yet to meet the elusive Angel yet, though, to talk to her about the cooking and stuff. I've found some herbs growing wild, and I've got some strawberry plants potted up in empty cans for now, waiting to go into the garden."

"Well, she's busy curing some jerky right now," Anthem says helpfully, "and I'm sure she'll appreciate the help in the kitchen. But, be careful about it. She had some bad experiences with men in her past, and she's worried about not being needed here. So, if you take over all the cooking or overwhelm her, well, she's liable to get upset."

Clearly, Phaistion appreciates the advice and he nods solemly, "I don't want to take things over from her, maybe we can swap recipes and stuff. Right now I'm kind of focused on getting a garden started. I'm more interested to know just what we have. Like… if there's any potatoes, if I can have a few to chite then I can plant them. And you'd be surprised how far a single carrot would go. Plant it, and at the end of the season it will go to seed."

"I'm no gardener. Just a man trained to kill and given a name that makes it all sound honorable and laudable," Anthem drawls with mild amusement. "Which makes me useful to a point. But just to a point."

Phaistion takes a deep drag from his cigarette, glancing up at Anthem, "It's all in the eye of the beholder, isn't it? Some people would say you're a lot more useful than I am." A rueful little smile skates across his lips, "Some people think my idea for a garden is really out there. Or that I'm worried about the flavor of what we feed people is important, because appetite fatigue can set in. I don't know. I probably /am/ 'out there', because I'm thinking about the long term. About what we'll need to do to rebuild. I want to concentrate on us /living/ not running out there and dying."

Anthem laughs softly. "I'm not worried about appetite fatigue quite yet. The situation is a little dire, and food is food. If people don't want to eat, they can deal with the consequences."

"Well, I'll be completely honest here, the garden is an experiment," Comes Phaistion's admission. "My Mom was the one who loved to garden, I wish I'd paid more attention. A lot of it is common sense. The other half of it is the whole chef's son thing, you know? A good chef knows exactly where his ingredients comes from, that's kind of what I'm working on. I know what the plants look like, from seed to table. Beyond that? I'm just… feeling my way around it."

Anthem shrugs. "I was never one for science or the scientific method. Stuff for smarter kids. But the desire to figure it out and make it work is the first, and prolly most important, step. I figure even if you only succeed at a bit of what you try to do, we're still better off, right?"

From the front of the Lodge comes Angel, armes laden down with trays of…something. Whatever's on the trays doesn't exactly look appetizing. However, the woman -is- smiling and looks to be in a good mood.

Phaistion is sitting beside Anthem on the floor, obviously enjoying the cigarette he seems to be savoring. There's a map drawn on the coffee table that they appear to have been conversing over, and Phai's sketchpad is open to some rough diagrams. At the site of the woman entering with a tray, he looks up and offers the newcoming a smile, "Hi there!"

"Gods dammit, Angel," Anthem says without any real rancor, "I swear you're tryin' to get me fat."

Angelica laughs softly and bends as she approaches the two men. "Fresh venison jerky, my own secret recipe, fresh out of the smoke," she says quietly. "You two can let me know if there's anything it needs. I put a bit of cherry wood and a bit of maple in there." Phaistion gets a warm, though somewhat shy smile and dips her head. "Hello."

"Oh, thank you," Phai perks right up at the thought of food, a grin breaking out across his features, "You must be Angel." He's been wanting to meet the young woman since he'd heard about her. "Any help you need in the kitchen, just let me know. My father was a chef, and he taught me a lot over the years." There's nothing officious in the statement that would indicate he wants to take over, or take charge, merely an offer to be of assistance.

If actions speak louder than words, then Anthem is stating a desire to become fat. Or he just has a healthy appetite. Either way, he's quick to grab a piece (or two, or three, maybe four) of the jerky and begin to eat it. "Tastes fine to me, but then again, I ain't a critic," he notes to Angel. "Never was particularly good at cookin' myself."

Angel cocks her head to the side as she studies Phai, then she smiles even more and nods. "I'd like that. There are quite a few more mouths to feed than I'm used to," she tells him, keeping her voice low and quiet. "I went ahead and tilled you some ground to the west for a garden. I kept it small, for now. It's only about twenty by twenty. But we can till more as it's needed. If you need help planting the strawberries, just let me know? I fixed mounding beds for them at the south corner of the east corner of the garden, where they'll get the morning light."

Phaistion blinks at Angel then begins to chuckle, "Poor Monty, I think we've both dug up part of the yard!" His spectacular skill at blushing rears its ugly head as pink streaks across his cheeks and the back of his ears. "I can just add the soil I've pulled up to the beds you've started, and put the sod back down over the area. Thank you though," He states very sincerely, "It's amazing that you've gotten all that done! And I'm more than happy to help you feed the masses. I've got a few questions about what we have in stock, when you've got time." A piece of the jerky is chosen and he nibbles at it, "Oh, I can taste the cherry quite a bit, adds an interesting flavor to it."

Anthem stays quiet, eating the handful of jerky he obtained and letting the two talk.

"I'll be back in just one second," she tells the men, scooting into the kitchen then coming back with three glasses of iced tea. "It's ok that you've dug up the yard. We can find something else to plant in that south corner," she tells Phai, head tilting to the side like a little bird's. "I'd just like to keep food stuffs away from the porch, except for herbs. I don't know that I have too many of those, but I've got SOME seeds." She folds herself down to a seated position across from the men and doles out the glasses. "Sun tea sweetened with plant sweetner."

Phaistion takes the offered tea with a hearty, "Thank you, Angel." His gaze turns downright appreciative at the mention of seeds. "I'm beginning to think you're a wonder, if you've got some seeds!" He takes a few sips of the cool drink and smacks his lips, "That hits the spot." Grinning he explains, "I've found a few stands of wild herbs, spearmint and stuff like that, that can be transplanted here. And there should be honey later in the season if the bee colony stays healthy. Are there any potatoes or other root crops in storage that you've got? 'Cause stuff like a carrot, onion or beet can be planted and allowed to go to seed, and a few potatoes would go a long way if they're cut up and planted."

Anthem takes some of the tea with a grin, then finds a seat. "This is going way too well," he says with a slight laugh. "Angel, how much food do we have in terms of days?"

Angel's nose crinkles a little bit. "Sadly, not more than a month," she says quietly. "Sir had enough laid in for a year, but with the extra mouths to feed, it's started to go quickly. We've been supplementing with the wild fruits and vegetables in the area as well as game. It's why I'm trying to dry as much jerky as I can now, before it's too late. We DO have quite a few beans lain in, which I'm trying to hold off on until winter." She nods to Phai, smile relaxing a bit. "I have some potatoes and carrots lain in, maybe a few other things."

"A handful of those beans will produce a lot more too," Phaistion pipes up, "if the garden is sucessful. There's tons of dandelions up by the creek, and I have some recipes for them. A lot of people don't realize how nutritous they are. Weeds can be good food!"

"A month isn't terrible," Anthem says contemplatively. "But it will help if we can get some more. I doubt we'll be able to plant crops that will make a difference in a month. So we'll have to find stuff in the meantime."

Angel dips her head to the men, head cocked to the side. "About a month on the canned goods, a few of the root veggies tucked away. I'll pull out what I can spare of those. We'll at least have something for further on down the road - but I agree, we need more. Plus, there IS decent hunting around here, still."

Dmitri pushes open the front door to the lodge, stepping along in with a rifle slung over his back. As if to punctuate Angel's points, he's carrying a red-stained canvas sack in his arms. A vague nod to the gathered, heading for the kitchen as he calls back, "You got a freezer back here somewhere, Angel?"

"We've got at least one vegetarian," Phaistion tells Angel quietly, "And I'm not sure she's willing to change that much just yet. I'd say it wasn't a concern… Except it's Tessa, the paramedic." To Phai's mind, keeping the only wound tender they have up and going is important. "In terms of the root crops, I only need one or two of each to put to seed, and a couple of the potatoes, depending on their size. I'm keeping my eyes out for wild sources that can be gathered or transplanted. Also, Passryn gave me a bit of an idea. If we can somehow trap some live geese and ducks and clip their flight feathers, we'd have a sustainable source of eggs."

Anthem blinks at Dmitri, not recognizing the man. "I think we have enough beans and the like that Tessa ain't gonna be starvin' anytime soon," he says to the generally assembled. The marine follows Dmitri, "Can I help you with that thing at all?"

Angelica looks up at Dmitri and offers him a warm smile. "Only a small deep freeze, I'm afraid," she tells him quietly. "There's jerky on the counter, if you'd like some. As for Miss Tessa, well, there's plenty we can do with other proteins to help her out so she won't go hungry and will stay healthy."

"And help Tessa maintain her shiny coat, too, right?" Homer interjects, coming out from one of the hallways with a jacket on, backpack slung over his shoulder and rifle in hand. "I'm leaving. Just thought you should know, Sarge. Can't stay. Not without knowing what's out there."

A grunt from Dmitri at the lack of a serious freezer, his head shaking a little as he moves along into the kitchen. He glances back over his shoulder, head lifting in a nod, "Sure, if you want. Already field dressed 'em, but, you can help me cut up the meat so it'll fit in the freezer." Thump, goes the bag onto a countertop.

Phaistion is more than curious about the contents of the bag, and he rises to his feet, "I'll be back," he tells Anthem as he heads into the kitchen after Dmitri and Angel. After all, the preparation of food is right smack dab in the middle of his comfort zone. "What did you catch, Dmitri," he asks with interest.

Anthem turns towards Homer. "Willin' to wait if you're plannin' on going far? There's a little more research to do, and I'd like to go over some stuff with you. But I agree we need to get movin' ASAP." With that said, he disappears into the kitchen. "Can't say I'm an expert butcher," he says to Dmitri. "Oh, an' the name's Anthem Hollas. Gunnery Sergeant, CMC."

Angel heads to the kitchen, but hangs back slightly, nodding to Phaistion to indicate that he can take over this part of things. She peers over at Homer and shakes her head. "Please stay a little longer? Mr. Harkins is working on a recon mission. It's in the works as we speak." Her voice is low and sweetly quiet.

"Jus' some critters," replies Dmitri easily, reaching into the sack to begin pulling out skinned, pawless squirrels, four of them laid out messily on the counter. "Dmitri Alexandros," he replies, slanting a sidelong glance to Anthem at the introduction, then back to the meat, lips pursing, "Hm. I don't s'pose we've got any lard layin' around here? We could preserve 'em as confit if we do."

"Look, no offense to Harkins or any of you, but we've all been waiting… in fact, I'm pretty sure we've waited too long." Homer shakes his head. "I'm headed out tonight. Tessa's coming with. We're going to try for medical supplies in the town south of Gladwell and gather up as many survivors as we can that we run across."

"Salt," Phaistion blurts out, in a way that may seem random. "Anthem, we need plenty of salt if you find any. High priority too. Humans need salt in their diets to survive. And that's beyond any consideration for how it can help preserve meats." He casts a rather sceptical glance at the squirells and scratches a hand through his mohawk. "I have to admit, I don't know anything about cooking squirrels, I've never worked with them before. I wonder if we could treat them like rabbits? You familiar with them at all, Angel?" Homer's words cause him to frown. "Do you really think it's a /good/ idea to take the one medical minded person we've got into an area that could be dangerous?"

Anthem steps out of the kitchen. "Oh, bloody hell. Then I'm goin', too." He looks around. "Gimme a moment to get a shotgun, a backpack, and an axe." He also quickly snags his rifle.

Angel simply shakes her head at Anthem and Homer looking, well, disappointed. "I've got some here," she tells Dmitri, pulling a small tub from under a cabinet. "Squirrel is very easy to fix. Treat it like rabbit," she tells Phai.

Angel simply shakes her head at Anthem and Homer looking, well, disappointed. "I've got some here," she tells Dmitri, pulling a small tub from under a cabinet. "Squirrel is very easy to fix. Treat it like rabbit," she tells Phai.

"If y'all want to wait until I've finished up here," Dmitri observes, flashing a smile over at Angel as she pulls out the tub and then reaching for a knife to start cutting the skinned critters into portions; separating the legs first, his voice raised to carry into the main room, "My truck's hidden a couple'a hours out of here. It'd get to that town a hell've a lot quicker, an' carry more than a few backs will."

Phaistion isn't here to take over, or push Angelica out, and because of that he shoots Angel a little grin, "Would you be willing to teach me? I have a feeling you have expertise with foods that I don't, and perhaps vice versa. We can learn from each other." At the discussion of scouting, he gives a small reminder, "If you can, please remember to keep an eye out for bee colonies. If they're damaged there will be a lot of corpses, they take their dead out of the hives. Barring finding an actual geiger counter on the trip, that is."

Homer smirks at Phaistion and offers a roll of his shoulders, "I asked, she said yes. Last time I checked, it was still her decision." He glances Anthem's way and nods, "Alright. Maybe we can find a site for the alternate camp while we're at it." Dmitri's voice is responded to, too. "It might, at that."

"And gentlemen? You're not taking the radiation doses if you go down to town, and you will not be welcome back here at the lodge if you return with radiation sickness." She's quiet as she watches Anthem and Homer. "I'd prefer that this be done correctly rather than people haring off on their own. If you want to go, then go with the gods." She looks up at Phaistion and shakes her head a bit. "I have something I need to take care of, but I'll be back in a bit."

Anthem chuckles, "If they're goin', I'm goin'. But I agree, they shouldn't."

"Don't recall saying I'd be taking anything from you or anyone here," Homer states as he looks Angelica in the eyes. "By all means, continue to sit here with all your supplies until Mr. Harkins pulls on your leash and tells you it's time to go. All I'm saying is that /I/ and other like-minded folks are not waiting here. And that, sweetling, you have no say in."

"Could draw attention, but, 'least then we'd know what's out there," Dmitri replies fatalistically, and rather casually as he works on cleaning the squirrels; heads soon removed and set off to one side, legs separated, and he's removing the ribs and pelvis now. It's messy work, though not as much as one might think.

Angelica looks over to Anthem, head cocking to the side. "I DO know that we need to set up patrols on the perimeter," she says softly. "Is that something we can work on doing until everyone can sit down together?" Either Homer's words don't bother her or she's just not dignifying them with a response.

"Should we stew them, do you think? That would last a few days at least." It's not really Phaistion's call, though the butchery doesn't seem to bother him overmuch. Homer's acerbic comment draws his attention and his tone takes on a bit of vehemence, "Hey, friend." Having not been introduced, he has no clue of Homer's name. "That was /way/ out of line. There's no need to be rude to Angel, because you're impatient to go out and get yourself killed."

Anthem looks at Angel, then Homer. He frowns, looking annoyed. "I doubt a few days are going to make a difference."

Homer just smiles at Phaistion with a shit-eating grin. Then he looks at Anthem, giving the man a nod. "You want to stay and wait for Harkins' plan, go ahead. Take care, Sarge. And all the rest of you too." With that, he heads for the front door.

"It's similar," Dmitri replies to Phaistion, not saying a thing about all the drama going on; glancing back to him, he quirks a brow, "Grab me a sauce-pan? I've got to simmer this before deboning."

"You might try finding Balaya's camp," Angel calls after Homer. "He had some ideas of things he wanted to do. I believe he's off to the east about 3 hours. He left the weapon Mr. Harkins gave him here, so it may be that he needs some help." Simply spoken, truth be told. Then she looks back to Anthem, a touch sad. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "But we can't have them back if they go off on their own. We can't waste resources."

Phaistion doesn't know his way around the kitchen yet, but it doesn't take him long to find one of the saute pans, which he hands over to Dmitri with a nod. "Are you going to sear the meat first," He asks with some curiousity, as he hunts around to catalogue the herbs and spices available. Once Angel speaks, a deep frown ruts into his brows, "Anthem? If that's the case, please don't go. We can't afford to lose people on a fool's errand. Frak! Tessa shouldn't be doing this."

Anthem growls. "Homer, you run into trouble, you hole up or come back. Don't fight any more than you have to. I'll work on gettin' a trip together for Osprey soon enough. Understand? Make sure you don't get lost. Make sure Tessa can backtrack if she needs. I wish we had a frakkin' radio set. We have a frakkin' radio set, Angel?" He looks back at Homer. "You see anythin' mysteriously dead, you get the frak out of there."

"You simmer down the spare bones, oh" Dmitri reaches into the sack, pulling out a smaller plastic bag with organs, setting it over, "and these, we'll make a glaze with it. Meanwhile we'll be boilin' the rest in the fat. Afterwards we'll debone this, we'll strain the fat and pour it over, store it in jars. It'll last a year or so, done right, no freezer needed."

"We'll be stealthy-like," Homer says, pausing in the doorframe to look back at Anthem. "If all goes well, we'll see you in Osprey." He smiles and offers a wave, then steps on out of the Lodge, shutting the door behind him.

The disappointment is clear in Angel's eyes as she just watches Anthem. With a slight shake of her head, she turns and leaves the kitchen without answering.

Phaistion listens carefully, getting the gyst of Dmitri's doing, clearly interested in learning the technique for future use. "We never really did any type of preserving like this. It's good to learn, though. Will the addition of any herbs and spices disturb the process," He wonders aloud. He's said his piece to Homer, and now focuses himself on the task, though his gaze follows Angel as she leaves.

Anthem puts his rifle back down, frowning at the closed door for a good long while. He grunts angrily, then follows after Angel.

Dmitri shrugs one shoulder as he moves the squirrel-pieces around on the counter into piles, admitting, "Don't see why they would. An' most city-folk, you got freezers'n canned goods an' all. Can't always rely on that out in the woods. We'll need more lard if we plan on doin' too much of this, though."

"Fat can be rendered from ducks and geese when they're in season," Phaistion points out. He's not happy about the current situation, but it's not as if he can control it. "Frakking fools," He mutters under his breath with a shake of his head, "So much for having a doctor, if they get contaminated or killed." He's slowly been amassing a small collection of dried herbs and spices, "Just let me know when we're to the actual cooking portion of the process," He says to Dmitri, still keeping a careful eye on what the man is doing.

"Yep," Dmitri replies easily, cleaning the bones of the lower mid-body that didn't have much in the way of meat on them in the first place, "We may not have too long before they start getting infected, though. Priority's as much meat as we can preserve, as quickly as possible."

"Passryn has some ideas on that, actually," Phai tells Dmitri quietly. "I guess she's going to talk to her people about 'domesticating' some of the animals we usually hunt. Keep them contained to lands we know aren't overly contaminated. It's a sound idea if it can be pulled off."

"Not a bad idea," admits Dmitri, "Although I suspect your food problems will be lessening themselves, as time goes on."

Dmitri's words put the frown right back on Phaistion's face. The thought of people going out to die is not one he relishes. "As for preserving meat, I guess that the hunter types should be focusing on getting deer. Most bang for the bullet, and it can be smoked and turned into jerky in terms of preserving it. If we can come up with a surpluss of salt, that would be another way to keep it."

"Salt's important," Dmitri adds, sliding over the bones and organs to Dmitri to simmer down before turning, stepping over to heft up the bucket of lard to set on the counter with a grunt, "Deer'd be good, definately. Pig, if you we can find it."

"Pig would definitely help us with the lard supply, you've lived up here a long time, right? There any wild boar around? Or any farms you know about up here? I don't know where else we'd find domesticated livestock pigs otherwise," Phaistion muses, "I'd think any of the pigs down mountain would be contaminated by this point."

"I live a bit away," admits the outdoorsman, his head shaking slowly, "Not sure about this area. We'll have to scout it out."

Phaistion nods in agreement, "Just as long as it's coordinated." A low sigh slips out of him, "I mean, I can understand the feeling of needing to /do/ something, but it just seems to me that running off without a plan, or the proper protection is a potential waste of life." He turns his attention back to the squirrel. "So tell me, how is the lard used to preserve it?"

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