Opening post by Weathervane · #1
On the morning the banners changed, I was already facing the right way, with a pot of mutton stew simmering while I watched the ladder, expecting dinner before the next refresh, but the onions caught, the barley turned to paste, and I have not checked today’s figures, though I’m with whoever is ahead; it cost me the stew, the mutton, and the recipe I will not share, unless the road’s mud is kinder than my cookfire.