His mother was preparing the evening meal. Luckily, on his way
home he had chanced on two bucks, and the first fell to his
ready arrow. And that two weeks afore!
The aroma of the roasting venison permeated the little hut. His
mother hummed quietly to herself as she stirred vegetables,
skillfully added the exact measure of spices, sprinkled on tangy
herbs. Yet his thoughts wandered. Dwelling on recent activities,
his thoughts were not on food.
Had Zeus forgotten?
He gazed into the burning logs, listened to the crackling as he
stirred the ashes. The brilliant sparks rose and disappeared.
Demo strode from the fire to the doorway, stared at the mist
and rain. The weather kept him from the hunt. The encounter with
the Goddess Athena occupied his mind. He had confused and
uncertain thoughts over all that had happened. Was it but a
dream?
Now the winds began to moan through the trees. Autumn has
already touched the high mountains. He glanced out at the moist
leaves, all bright in gold and crimson hues, soon to darken.
Then they will fall. The mountains shall be barren.
He examined the pack his mother had prepared. It contained
several days' food, for he had no idea how long he would be on
his quest. He picked up his pouch, examined each arrow in turn.
Sharpened and re-sharpened! They wait to fly straight and true
to his prey. The smell of the cooking venison again caught his
attention.
"Eat well, my son.
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