Sun Mote Copse The Art of the Dinner Date

"In an emergency, even devil eats flies," Wraen replied, smiling at Sugar Glider's naivety. The youngest Blackthorn had been fairly lucky so far, she had never experienced, what hunger felt like after a week without anything to eat. Two even, if it was very bad. Then the ache in one's belly was so hard and mind so desperate that you ate virtually anything. 

"Plants don't taste good in general," with an exception of strawberries and blueberries. They were sweet and Sovereign's personal favourites. "And they are not meant to sustain you for long, but you can sate hunger for a while," she explained. "You will learn either this season or the next - let's hope, never - that meat can become non-existent," Wraen told, looked up, spotted something on a branch of a larger spruce and went over there. She jumped up and plucked some lichen off it's perch.

"Old man's beard - for example," she told Sugar glider, after she had brought her catch back and put it by the girl's feet. "Is edible and harmless. My mom used to say that it is practically useless, but you can fool your stomach with it and will die of hunger later," she chuckled, though the joke was dark and she did not expect the aspiring healer to understand it.