Ivy licked her lips with longing as the warm pie emerged from above the fire on Mother’s tray. The wonderful, sweet scent already filled their entire home, and the smell of the still-cooking bread accompanied it as well. Ivy sniffed in deeply for what must have been the twentieth time that hour, relishing the wonderful scents around her.
Beside her, Finch was doing the same. They noticed each other and burst out laughing at the same time, then each picked up their own weaving once more as Mother shook her head at them in amusement.
They were all always weaving–they worked all year on next year’s larger clothing for themselves, then when it came time to change, they would begin working on the clothing for the year after. They worked with thread shredded from deer fat and used it to weave together the rough deer skin that would keep them warm. They each had to make two bottoms and two tops: one of each short, and the others long (for the warmer and colder seasons, accordingly). They would be switching clothing soon, Ivy knew–on Car-muss, when they each also received a special present. That was in just 15 days.
After what seemed like ages of wrapping thread over thread into thread beside thread, Mother removed the bread from the fire. Ivy watched with silent eagerness and knew her brother was doing the same beside her even though she wasn’t looking at him. Though they had bread almost every night, it was still the most delicious thing–other than Mother’s pies–that Ivy had ever tasted.
“Time to eat,” Mother smiled, setting the bread by the pie. “Time to celebrate.”