Steve Rogers (captainhandsome) wrote in snapthread, @ 2019-02-22 10:54:00 |
|
|||
WHO: Everyone and anyone!
WHAT: Something smells like dinner?
WHERE: The square of the unnamed town that is here
WHEN: The second day
RATING: Low
Please feel free to post within this thread your own threads or OTA posts. But please use character names in the subject line to save my inbox!
----------------------------------------
Steve liked the fresh air, he hadn't got a chance to enjoy it in Wakanda, hadn't got a chance to do much except what had been done. Then like the dust in his hands it had all slipped away, reality and earth did as well. At first he'd been alone, he'd had time to explore everything by himself, had slept and eaten and there had been days of that kind of echoing quiet. It gave him time to think, this hadn't been part of his plan. He'd cleared out a house, put together a tool kit from things he'd found around. The tools had needed some care but worked well for his basic needs.
Once he'd seen to cleaning, washing windows inside and out, then it was building up firewood. Steve must have spent an entire day taking apart dead trees, carrying the stores into the square. It was good, he didn't think too much then, just that it might get cold, there might be more people.
And there were more people, strangers who appeared much the same as he had and Steve tried to give them space, be welcoming and yet not threatening. He wasn't sure how well it was working. But he'd decided that usually the best way to make peace and the like was through someone's stomach. Which is what had lead him to taking a little walk down to where the trees got closer together and twigs cracked under foot.
He never wanted to kill something, but he also understood foodchains and the like. The large boar hadn't stood much chance against the impact of his shield and it was quick at least. The rest of it took longer and Steve didn't have a lot of experience but it wasn't the first time he'd butchered something so he got there. Steve carried it back to the square, where he'd already lit the fire under the metal rack he'd dragged out from behind a shed was scrubbed clean. A spit would be better, but that kind of machinery wasn't his forte. Coals and what looked to be an old metal gate would do fine.
It was practically a barbecue.