Bearclaw Valley with sincerity, there is virtue

I got a little carried away…

Keiko swore she felt the earth shake with each step the divine man took.

She was surprised he moved towards her, and even more surprised when he dropped the fish at her feet! Her fine-featured face went blank, perplexed, as he nudged it towards her.

No, no, no! This fish was food of the gods. He couldn’t mean to share it with her, did he? If anything, it was the Miko’s responsibility to bring an offering to him.

Both of them looked at each other. Then at the fish. Then back to one another.

A classic lost-in-translation moment.

Thankfully, the long silence was broken by a rain of river water, shaken from his furs. Keiko lifted a paw to shield herself as she laughed with poise. Oh what a joy it was to learn his proclivities!

She felt rejuvenated and then, suddenly, an idea came to her. =“Oh!,”= she clapped her paws together, =“I understand. You must want it prepared.”=

With the speed of a wind sprite, Keiko gathered ingredients from her pouch and the river’s edge. Before she began, the girl wet her paws in the running water to clean them.

She laid the fish across a wide plank and artfully separated the skin, roe, and flesh into perfect cuts. Then, she took two river stones and mashed burdock root with dried salmonberries of her homeland into a paste. This was slathered onto a few broad green leaves of sorrel, which would match well with their lemony notes, and rolled around the skin to create a swirl. Atop the meat, she laid a grape leaf, sweetened with chickweed (simplicity was best when serving riverfish). For decoration, vibrant violet leaves popped among the fish’s shimmering salty orange eggs.

Once finished, she wasted no time to slide the prepared plate back towards him with a bow.

“Meshiagare,” she said. Then, Keiko tucked herself into a neat sitting position, ready to watch him take a bite.