"Ice cream? Does that mean it is cold?"

[hazlogs]

Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly sunny today. The temperature is 56
      degrees Fahrenheit (13 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in 
      from the north at 8 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.03 and 
      falling, and the relative humidity is 53 percent. The dewpoint is 39 
      degrees Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius.)

It is currently 19:14 Pacific Time on Sun Apr 4 2004.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (99% full).

Two Eagles Bluff(#3332RJ)

To the northeast, the foothills climb upwards into the steep, snow-capped crags
      and mountains. Here, the tall summer grasses bend in sporadic waves as 
      the wind dances on the bluff. The evergreens and aspens give way to an 
      open field that lends itself to a panoramic and picturesque view to the 
      south and east. A small stream wends its way unobtrusively through the 
      eastern edge of the mountain's crags, the scent and sound of trickling 
      water clear on the hesitant but almost incessant breeze. Wildflowers 
      litter the green of the grass, coloring them with touches of violet and 
      bright oranges, yellows and blues. Tucked in along the sloped wall of the 
      forested foothills to the northeast is a well-worn section of ground.

Atcen practices her forms as the sun sets, her gaunt face screwed up into an
      expression of intense concentration.

Jacinta returns to the bluff in quiet thought, and it takes her a moment to
      notice the cub's presence or activity. When she does, she stops moving 
      and observes, silently.

Atcen makes a misstep, her balance faltering. She scowls, baring her teeth,
      then just stands still, breathing. Once she's calm again, she begins 
      again.

Jacinta nods approval and waits until Atcen is fully involved in her next
      attempt to move fully into the clearing. Pretending not to watch, she 
      sets about daily evening chores.

Atcen is fully absorbed in her practice and only when she's done -- and quite
      sweaty from the exercise -- does she glance around. Spotting Jacinta, she 
      grins and waves.

Jacinta smiles in return, but it is with the tension of the rising moon
      reflected in her eyes. "You are improving." Standing, she crosses her 
      arms. "Are you feeling prepared for your Rite of Passage?"

Atcen wipes her brow with one skinny arm and nods. "Ii. I think so."

Jacinta finds amusement in the cub's response, the corners of her eyes
      wrinkling in a smile that doesn't appear on her lips. "Assirrtuq. And 
      Holly? Do you think she is ready?"

Atcen sucks in her cheeks and nods. "She know Umbra better, but she is a
      Theurge, so that is not bad. I fight better than her. Know war-form and 
      wolf-form better." The metis purses her lips. "She is smarter, maybe. 
      Knows homid stuff more, _not_ maybe. Both of us, we do good, I think."

Jacinta nods with a tightening around her mouth. "That is good, because the
      maqii will be ready by the time the moon begins to shrink, and I would 
      like to send you before it gets too small." Uncrossing her arms she 
      reaches into a pocket and, after feeling around for a moment, pulls out a 
      small, ornate, pocket knife. She tosses this to Atcen. "I was given this 
      the week before my Rite of Passage. Learn to use its secrets, perhaps it 
      will be of assistance."

Atcen grimaces at mention of the maquii, but that doesn't keep her from
      catching the knife. She turns it over in her hands, studying it, then 
      looks up and nods solemnly.

The knife is made of antler, carved with the glyph for Wendigo on one side and
      People on the other. It appears unremarkable. Two blades, folding in 
      opposite directions, well used, and well sharpened. The hinges are oiled 
      and it opens easily. Each blade is about 4 inches long.

Atcen opens the blades, one at a time, and then closes them, marvelling a
      little.

Jacinta smiles tightly and turns back to the bowl she had filled with white
      fat. She sticks a hand into the mess and begins whipping.

Atcen slips the knife into a pocket of her jeans and wanders closer, peering.
      "What is that?" she asks, pointing.

Jacinta whips the fat until it develops a smooth texture. Resting the bowl on
      her knees, she reaches over to the other bowl she brought with her - this 
      one filled with water and cooked fish, and pulls out a handfull of fish. 
      She closes her fist around it, shaking her hand to drain most of the 
      water, then puts the fish in the bowl and resumes whipping. She answers 
      without looking up. "There are no seals. So, no seal fat. I experiment. I 
      make aqutaq." Her language shifted to the infrequently heard 'village 
      English' as her attention focused on her task.

Atcen hunkers down nearby, squatting on her heels. "Aqutaq?" She pronounces the
      word carefully, awkwardly.

Jacinta says "Ii. Eskimo ice cream. Dessert. You will like."

Atcen's brow furrows. "Ice cream? Does that mean it is cold?"

Jacinta stops whipping and scrapes her fingers on the side of the bowl. "Ii.
      Qussaq ice cream is very cold. Good, too. Aqutaq is only cold if its cold 
      out. But better cold than warm. Not frozen, like qussaq ice cream, 
      though. Go get the blueberries I took from the farm house?"

Atcen looks interested, but interested or no she's quick to fetch the requested
      item. "Cold like snow, or cold like stream?"

Jacinta scoops a handfull of berries, and then two, and then the rest into the
      bowl and stirs them with slightly more care. "Qussaq ice cream, cold like 
      snow. Aqutaq, cold like stream.

Atcen nods, hunkering down again to watch. "Why is qussaq ice cream more cold?"

Jacinta says "Eskimo ice cream isn't ice cream. It's aqutaq. Made it before the
      qussaqs ever touched the pure lands. Qussaqs saw, thought it look like 
      their ice cream. Qussaq ice cream one of the few good things about 
      qussaqs, though."

"Aqutaq," Atcen repeats, nodding slowly. "So how is different?"

Jacinta scoops up a gob on two finger and sticks it in her mouth. Nodding
      approval, she chews and swallows before answering. "Aqutaq," she holds 
      the bowl up to the Galliard, "is fat, fish, berries. Ice cream is frozen 
      cream, sugar, flavors."

Atcen swipes up a fingerful and sticks it in her mouth. She smiles, then,
      apparantly finding the flavor and texture quite satisfactory.

Jacinta scoops up another two fingers' worth and then puts the bowl down
      between them. "Aqutaq is good."

Atcen nods agreement and helps herself to more. "Mmm." After licking her
      fingers clean, she says, "Save some for Holly."

Jacinta picks up the bowl and hands it to Atcen. "Put it in the back of the
      cave, where it will be cool." She rises, herself, to begin cleaning up 
      the two other bowls involved in making the dessert.

Atcen nods and trots off, though not before swiping another fingerful, like a
      naughty child. When she emerges from the cave again, the skinny metis 
      seems to be in high spirits.

Jacinta finishes the last of her chores and kneels near the cave entrance.
      "What would you learn from me, tonight?"

Atcen considers, then grins and takes the pocketknife out. "How to use this."

Jacinta waves the cub closer and then pats the ground at her side. "Here. It is
      not a great weapon to use against the enemy, but it can be used in 
      secrecy and quiet where greater weapons can not, or where changing forms 
      would break the veil." She puts a hand out, palm up.

Atcen hands it over and then hunkers down in the indicated spot, her too-pale
      eyes bright and eager.

Jacinta shows Atcen the catch, within the Wendigo glyph, that will open the
      spring-loaded blade on one end. "Be careful, but if you need to make 
      quick use of a weapon or tool, this will work."

Atcen jumps slightly, then grins, the expression toothy and skeletal in her
      bony face. "Oooh."

Jacinta smiles, and hands the knife back to Atcen. Pointing, she explains how
      to close the spring loaded blade. "Practice. It takes work to be able to 
      hold it and open it without being seen."

Atcen nods. "Quiet. Sneaky." She examines the knife, making the spring-blade
      snap out and experiments with doing it in a stealthy sort of way, like 
      hiding it behind her arm.

Jacinta nods. "Not a tool for honorable challenges. But a tool for survival,
      and success, when those are more important."

Atcen winces, teeth baring, as she accidentally cuts herself. Watching the
      wound heal and vanish, the metis scowls and nods. "Will practice a /lot/. 
      Can not do /that/." She licks the blood off her wrist.

Jacinta supresses a smirk. "Yes. Practice. Prepare. I go to work inside the
      maqii. You can find me there, if you have need."

Atcen nods again and spends the rest of her evening working with the knife.
      Before she goes to sleep, she's even trying to incorporate it into her 
      forms.