“You know what I’d kill for right now?” Jake asked aloud as he turned the spit roasting over the fire in front of him over, not waiting for Alice to respond to his hypothetical question, “Marshmallows.”


    “What’s a marshmallow?”


    “Shouldn’t ask that,” Jake said with a smile, grinning at seeing how annoyed Alice looked with his answer. “Best not to know what they are..”


    “You can’t just bring something up and tell me not to ask about it!” She called in annoyance, lightly chucking a small stone into his side. He laughed at that, leaning back to let the meat roast some more.


    “Fine, fine. Not too sure myself, to be honest. Some people said it was ground-up animal bones and skin mixed with sugar and starch. Still, whatever they are, they taste great roasted over a fire like this. All gooey and sweet. Would kill for some.”


    “You could have just said it was a sweet from your home. Why’d you make it so cryptic?”


    “To annoy you,” Jake said plainly, letting out a light laugh as Alice tossed another stone his way.


    The two where sat reclined near a flowing stream on a beach made of pebbles and stone. Their landing had been somewhat rocky, slipping on the slipper rocks underfoot, but otherwise uneventful. They were both extremely grateful for the rushing stream nearby, noticing it immediately after landing. Particularly Alice who’d finally been allowed the chance to flush the rotted meat from out her mouth.


    Their current camp was rather nice by their usual standards. The abundant stones and rocks around them allowed the two to construct a makeshift firepit, properly encircled by gathered rocks worn smoothly by rushing wind and water. They’d even gathered enough stones to make small shelves where they could rest their spit while cooking, keeping the meat away from the flame and mitigating the risk of burning their meal.


    “Still I''m surprised you weren’t grossed out by that. Where I’m from most avoided talking about what marshmallows are made of. Grosses them out.”


    “Really?” Alice asked, surprised. It didn’t sound too bad to her. She’d eaten worse in the past. In fact, the idea of finding a way to turn the inedible edible intrigued her. If she’d been able to eat the flesh and bone left behind in her meals before she’d have been much fuller in the past. This said nothing about the additive sweetness. She’d kill to sample something sweet again. Her heart broke a bit remembering the berries long since ripened and abandoned.


    “They still ate them though?”


    “Sure did. Where pretty good too, even if they weren’t roasted.”


    “We’ll have to try them sometime. Has to taste better than that, at least.”


    “…Sure thing…” Jake said some enthusiasm lost in his voice as he made yet another promise to her about an uncertain future. Still, glancing downward, he had to agree with her. No matter what they stuck in marshmallows it had to be better than what he was currently roasting.


    As soon as they’d arrived and busied themselves at the stream, they’d spotted the creature hopping in and out of the water with reckless abandon. They were downstream from them a few meters away and didn’t look as if they’d pose much of a threat. It had been rather easy to catch, it just let Jake walk up to it and stab it directly in the head.


    Still, he found it hard to be excited about his catch. The creature resembled a frog, or maybe it was more toadlike. It was about the size of a raccoon, and its back was covered in bulbous yellow and green warts. Its skin was a thick grey color and tough, cutting through it had been like stabbing a leather chair. Its large eyes took up the majority of its face with two thin slits for nostrils taking the remaining space left over.


    As soon as he’d stabbed the creature the rest of its pack had panicked, letting our horrific croaking sounds, sacks under their heads expand and they dove quickly into the water. Held aloft by their expanded necks they allowed the stream to carry them away, far out of sight from the duo who were left standing over the corpse of the rather unappealing-looking beast.


    Even Alice, growing up catching mice and rats to eat when her rations in the district ran low, found the pulsating warts on the back of the overgrown toad rather disgusting. The whole creature’s visage just made it look remarkably unappetizing. Still, though, their hunger won out as it often did these days wandering in the wild, and so the pair carted the carcass of the beast back toward their makeshift camp to cut and cook it.


    Unsure how to prepare a regular frog, much less an overgrown one Jake set about carving into the toad trying his best to prep the meat. In the end, he had to say he was rather unsatisfied with the results. Most of the frog’s innards were able to be removed, left to rot in a pile a way away from them. The skin, however, proved to be too tough to remove. Left with no other choice, Jake had forcefully rammed a spit through the entirety of the beast’s body and set it to cook atop a particularly large flame that ate into quite a bit of their supply of pre-prepared firewood.


    Gazing at it now atop the open flame of the campfire, Jake grimaced slightly. Each turn of the spit seemed to somehow make the frog look less appetizing than it had before. As the fire roasted the frog its skin began to peel and crack, flaking away from the frog and giving the meat a rather odd and unappetizing complexion. Along with this the warts along the frogs’ back, equally difficult to remove, would pop and boil under the heat of the fire occasionally showering the carcass in juices Jake imagined were better left off their meal.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Eyeing the legs of the frog, the only part of the beast that still looked remotely appetizing, a short sigh escaped him. He’d heard frog legs tasted alright, like chicken. He hoped that was true. He’d learned so far on this journey most things tended to taste like chicken. But looking at the rotating mass of meat before him, he couldn’t imagine its taste being remotely pleasant.


    “You know what, I take it back. Forget marshmallows. Salt. I’d just kill for some salt, just a little salt…” Jake muttered to himself as he slowly turned the spit again, ignoring a wart that looked dangerously close to popping.


    Alice shook her head at his comments. Glancing over the roasting frog it didn’t look too bad. Sure, she’d certainly eaten better since starting this trip. But she’d also eaten worse. While it didn’t look like the most appetizing thing she’d eaten it certainly looked edible. She couldn’t imagine it tasting worse than the rotted meat from yesterday.


    Leaning back against a small pile of rocks she’d moved and kicked together she lightly gripped her battered harp in her hand. Her spirits were rather high, she’d finally felt the strings in her arms begin to reconnect themselves. She could wiggle her fingers and slightly turn her hand without the whole side of her body erupting into immense pain. Still, though, the connection felt rough. Like it was barely holding together, just a few loose fibers caught together beginning the process of rebinding.


    Glancing toward Jake grumpily turning the frog over, a thought sparked in her mind. An evil grin played across her face as her finger hovered over the harp''s center string. She watched her prey now, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Watched as he turned the meal over. Watched as he leaned forward a bit to examine it… to close now. Watched him sit back. Watched him lean back to crack his back… perfect.


    Her finger found the string and plucked it. The single note seemed to hang in the air for an unnaturally long time as the harp vibrated and the fire roared to life, nearly doubling in size. As the fire roared two screams rang out. The first came from Jake, a scream of surprise as he fell backward watching the roaring flame respond to the call of the harp. The second came from Alice, a scream of sudden… sensation.


    That seemed the best way to describe it. What struck her was by no means a pleasant feeling, as the strings within her revibrated and shook in rhythmic response to the harp''s call. Yet it wasn’t unpleasant either. The sensation was simply there, a notable sensation with enough force to evoke a reaction from her. All due to the shattered strings in her arm.


    They vibrated in harmony to the note of the harp as well, rhythmically pulsing as power flowed throughout her. Yet the pleasant feeling she’d felt before felt incomplete now. Stopped at her arm, a bottleneck where the harmonic rhythm of the strings was interrupted. Stopped even more so than by the knots that lay twisted throughout the string’s web.


    Yet somehow this incomplete passage wasn’t painful. Even as she felt the rhythmic flow of power suddenly halt, forced to double back on itself as it slowed down and died, she could feel the severed strings in her arm. Inactive for so long they flared to life now and reached forward as more and more fibers seemed to spur to life and bundle together intertwining all through her arm.


    As the single note of the harp died away along with the suddenly increased flame of the fire, both regained their composure. Jake sat up fast and glared at her.


    “Really funny! Please don’t barbecue the frog, it may look awful but it’s all we have to eat so…”


    “What was that…?” Alice asked, voice a near whisper as she interrupted him.


    “What do you mean what was that?! That was you, I’ve seen you do that before! I may not know much about magic, but I know that was you!”


    “Not that… my arm. It feels… better now. Lighter.”


    “What?” Jake said, the annoyance in his voice disappearing immediately. “I thought you said it was barely improving. Can you move it now?”


    “…No,” Alice said after giving it a try, followed by a sudden wince. “But still, it feels more connected, farther along than it was before. My fingers. I can move my fingers!” She was ecstatic and she could see the excitement rising in Jake''s face too. “The harp… playing the harp. It connected the strings together, forced them back together.”


    “Play It more then!”


    “…Move the frog.”


    “Oh right,” Jake said, racing over to pull the spit from the fire. Alice shook her head at his excitement, chuckling a little. She found his eagerness sort of strange in a way. He’d admitted already he didn’t understand the strings she described. Couldn’t visualize what she was talking about no matter how she tried to explain it. She supposed that was fair, she still barely understood them. Still, seeing him so excited to help with something he couldn’t understand. So excited to help her…


    A slight smile on her face she began to play, strumming a rough melody from the strings left on her rundown harp. She was forced to pause a few times, stop and gasp at the sensation trailing up her arm as she felt the strings within her hurry to try and interweave themselves together. Still, she pushed through these sudden bursts of sensation, and kept playing away at a simple melody that forced the fire to dance and grow and bend.


    She didn’t play for long, only a few minutes strumming a rather repetitive tune before she was forced to stop. Pain suddenly gathered within her as the power continually reverberated back and forth upon itself in an endless cycle spiked. It seemed to have reached its limit, and unable to pulsate along the strings freely it had begun to instead escape through her in bursts of pain.


    Sat gasping for a moment, she felt the pain begin to die away as soon as she’d stopped playing. No longer charged with energy, the power dissipated, and the strings stopped vibrating. She felt them slowly return to normal in a couple of minutes. Still, despite the painful ending, the exercise was not without its merits. She found she could move her hand without any pain.


    “Is your arm feeling any better?”


    “Yeah…” She replied sounding sort of dazed, out of it as she examined the changes in her arm. Still lost in the odd sensation of the strings rebinding together and the pain of the rhythmic pulses trapped within.


    “That’s great!” Jake said in a cheery tone as he sat beside her lugging the spit of frog with him. “Here, the frog is probably ready. It’s hard to tell so I may be off. If you’re not hungry yet we can set it aside.”


    Ripping a frog leg free he passed it towards her before ripping another off for himself. She accepted it gladly after a moment, the haze of the strings fading from her. Raising the legs of the frog to their faces they bit into the meat, rather apprehensively. It was hard to chew, the skin so tough it took a while to find anything edible. Soon as they did though Jake’s face dropped.


    “Definitely needed salt…”