“Thank you for accompanying me, Miss Diwana, you really didn’t have to,” Eron said, putting a few pieces of fresh steak that he bought on his way back from the lumber camp into an already hot pot over his small bonfire.
With a smile, he then added a few herbs, a pinch of salt and a dash of pepper. Eron couldn't help but smile at the chance to actually cook a meal for the woman beside him.
It was truly an advantage to live in a place where people cultivated and bred their own food and then sold it themselves. They were mostly driving in with a truck loaded with vegetables and/or newly butchered meats, and even cheese with other kinds of produce to places like the lumber camp, a few far-off places where workers were, in the same style that Diwana sold her food. Just so happened that
