Food was ready by the time the sun went down. Violet was given a simple, wooden bowl filled with some kind of unrecognizable stew. It certainly didn’t smell awful, it just wasn’t meat and potatoes. She took her seat next to the others, who already had their food. Rory was half way through his bowl before Violet had a bite of hers. Linus had Sitting Bear translate his compliments to the cooks. Mei, who sat at the other end of their row, stayed silent as the grave, focusing on her bowl. Violet frowned. It was one thing to be upset that their schedules were disrupted, but even Violet had grown comfortable in the Choctaw camp by now. Taking her food, she settled down on the far side next to Mei. “How’s yours?” she asked.
Mei grunted, sopping up some of her stew with a piece of bread. “S’food,” she said.