|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2012 7:08 pm
 Baba's Single room hut is full of amazing and unusual looking items, most are recognizable as animal bones and parts. The wood walls are shabby and cracked. The floor is uneven and the chill morning air slips through the gap under the door.
Baba is standing over a kettle near the fire, she dips in her hooked lip and tastes the mustard colored stew. As her tong flickers over her iron toothed beak she ponders the added ingredients.
"Needs more... something. It seems I have forgotten an ingredient!"
Her black candle stick bird is balancing an old tome on its back. It wobbles and tilts as it makes its way to Baba.
"Ah, yes. Good thinking my Dark Knight. I always liked you best. Now lets see if I can't find that recipe."
The black bird drops the tome at her clawed feet and she begins to flip through its pages.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2012 7:48 pm
edited, is it ok if there pictures? Baba Yaga continues to flip through her tome for ten minutes. She stops on a page and studies it. The pages are full of images of plants and various herbal and medicinal things. An enlightened look emerges on her face. Her pause alerts the black bird and he awakes from his sleep. He stands at attention and is waiting, anticipating her orders.
"Finley chopped onions and celery."
The Black bird scrambles to the table and grasps the handle of the chopping knife with his tiny red feet. The White bird flutters out from behind a large bowl and rolls an onion to black bird. Red bird grasps the other end of the knife and helps Black chop the onion.
Baba continues to study the tome as she uses a wooden spoon, held by her tail, to stir the stew.
White is collecting stocks of celery and placing them on the table. Black and Red finish chopping as White brings the last stock of celery. White pushes the chopped bits of onion off the table and into a bowl he set up on the floor.
Baba casually grabs the onion bowl without looking and nearly scratches White with her clawed foot. She takes a whiff of the onions and looks delighted.
"Ah, Koshchey used to smell like onions." Her voice sounding reminiscent.
She dumped the the bowl of onions into the pot, including the bowl, and appeared to be lost in thought.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2012 8:22 pm
edited "I wonder where he is now," Baba asks herself.
"He's going to be late for dinner"
The birds look at each other nervously, but continue to chop the celery.
Baba starts stirring the stew again with her wooden spoon. The spoon hitting the bowl and making a clanking sound in the pot.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
