The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe-Chapter 177: Is it supposed to be that black?

The fire crackled with a newfound vigor as Damar and Fenric stacked the extra wood. Under my direction, they had constructed two sturdy Y-shaped branches—the butt of the Y buried deep into the earth—on either side of a bed of glowing, white-hot coals.

I watched with a growing, primal hunger as Fenric used his knife to expertly skin and clean the larger boar. Once the meat was prepped, he slid the long, sharpened spit I’d selected right through the center.

When it was time to lift the boar, they both began to argue.

"I can do it better cause I have more strength," Fenric growled.

"No, I’ll do it."

"With those lean muscles on your arms?" Fenric scoffed. "I’d like to see you try."

"My tail has more muscles than your body ever could," Damar calmly retorted.

They both engaged in a glaring contest, and I planned my face, sighing.

"Both of you, just do it together," I said and they turned away from each other, turning their backs.

Were they really going to keep arguing?

But contrary to my worries, they actually listened.

With a grunt of effort, Fenric and Damar hoisted the heavy beast onto the stand.

Was that too hard to do?

I could only continue, not minding their silent battle.

"Now," I said, my voice thick with anticipation as I stared at the boar above the raging fire. "We turn it. Slowly."

As the meat began to rotate over the heat, the transformation was almost hypnotic. The skin began to blister and crackle, turning a deep, mahogany brown. The fat rendered out, dripping onto the coals with a sharp hiss and a puff of aromatic smoke that made my mouth water instantly.

I reached into the small leather pouch at my waist. Inside was a handful of salt. I began to sprinkle it over the rotating boar, the crystals crackling as they hit the hot, oily surface.

It was so good that at the time, I didn’t notice another detail and only thought of my belly.

Fenric’s nose twitched, and he let out a low, appreciative whine.

The simple addition of the salt made the aroma sharpen, turning it from just ’burnt meat’ into something that smelled like a proper, mouth-watering meal.

’God, what I wouldn’t give for some black pepper,’ I thought, a sudden, sharp pang of longing hitting me. ’Or some crushed garlic. Even a single bottle of hot sauce would do.’

Beside me, Fenric was practically vibrating. His pupils had blown wide, and a thin trail of saliva escaped the corner of his mouth. Even Damar was leaning in close, his tongue flicking out rhythmically to taste the heavy, savory air.

"It smells... incredible," Fenric rasped, his eyes fixed on the dripping fat.

"Just wait," I whispered, my own stomach growling in response.

I glanced over at our traveling companions. The rabbits were staring at the rotating carcass with a look of absolute, soul-deep horror. To them, we were performatively burning a fellow inhabitant of the forest. Every time the boar’s leg shifted in the heat, they flinched.

"Is... is it supposed to be that black?" Robi whispered, his voice trembling.

"It’s not burnt, Robi. It’s seared," I offered a sympathetic, if slightly distracted, smile. "Listen, if you guys can’t look at this anymore, you should just close your eyes or go to sleep. We’ll try to be quiet, okay?"

The rabbits didn’t need to be told twice. They immediately began scurrying to the edge of the camp, gathering large, soft leaves to spread on the dirt as bedding. They huddled together, ears flat, trying to tune out the world.

As the fat from the boar sizzled and dripped into the coals, my eyes lit up as I finally noticed the detail I had been putting off this whole time.

I blinked.

The fat was so pure and thick and... Tempting.

’I almost forgot.’ my eyes drifted to the second carcass—the one Damar had brought back. ’That fat is liquid gold,’ I realized, my mind flashing back to the random DIY video I’d seen years ago of a natural way of getting oil out of pigs.

I already made plans to get oil from pig fat in the future, but I didn’t think I would get to do it this soon. I nearly forgot that the boar was an ancestor of pigs.

I looked at the thick white layers of fat beneath the second boar’s skin. If I rendered that down into ’lard’ and mixed it with the wood ash from our fire later, I could actually make a crude soap.

I reached out and poked the cold carcass.

"Fenric, when we’re done eating, help me out with this one. I want all the white fat stored in those clay jars we got from Gram."

Fenric paused.

"The fat? But Arinya, that’s the part that makes you feel heavy if you eat too much of it." He said. "Do you plan to fatten up?"

"No, no, I’m not going to eat it," I said, a small, secretive smile playing on my lips. "I’m going to use it for something else. Just... trust me. I need to keep as much of it as possible."

Damar tilted his head, his silver eyes curious.

"You wish to keep the grease of the beast? It will smell of the wild after a few days."

"Not if I prepare it right," I countered. I knew if I boiled it down and strained it, I could get rid of the ’crude’ impurities and the heavy animal smell. It wouldn’t be French lavender soap, but it would be a start.

I turned back to my meal, feeling a surge of productivity. I was going to be the cleanest person in this world, huhu.

The rabbits, meanwhile, were already fast asleep, their little bodies rising and falling in a rhythmic huddle. I looked at them, then at the crackling fire, and finally at my two mates.

"One more day," I whispered to myself. "One more day of fresh air before the tunnels."

Fenric leaned over and licked a stray drop of grease from my thumb, his eyes dark and heat-filled.

"Don’t worry about the tunnels, Arinya. If any mouse tries to bite you, I’ll swallow the whole tribe."

His words left an icky feeling, anything but that, but... I laughed, leaning my head against his shoulder.

"I’m holding you to that, Fenric."