DP jerked his head in acknowledgement, and kept working on his oatcakes, carefully patting the fragile dough into shape, then adding a generous dollop of honey to the mixture. Then he balled the dough and patted it flat before spreading it into a pan. Picking up the water, he rinsed his hands again, scrubbing the flour and dough off before patting them dry on his jeans and turning to light the Sterno to fry up the small cakes. Casually, "Y'all should raid a few of the houses 'round about. Riskier than the big warehouses, but more chance of finding lard and oil and such, now...." He glanced at her. "What else needs heated for eating? I can do that now, if you like."
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dpyellowdog) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
technicallyrpg,