(no subject)
Tuttle-root soup. It was the thing that reminded Teyla most of home. She had made it once before, but in the months she had been here, Teyla had found the memory of it fading. The memory of home fading. Until the wraith had come. Their presence had changed this from a safe haven in mere moments, and though everyone assured her it was an island trick and they would not come again, she worried. After all, were the years she had gained because of those wraith proof enough it was not just some trick?
Of course, that day when she went to the kitchen there was no tuttle root, not that there ever was on this island. There were many canned goods, however, and Teyla set the ones she thought useful on the counter, trying to remember all that Charin had taught her, and the additional things she had learned from Delerium. It was only soup after all, how wrong could she get it?
[[Teyla is cooking. Be afraid. Be very very afraid. Come help her cook, or have some of her well meant but horrid tasting soup foisted off on you. ST & LT Very welcome]]
Of course, that day when she went to the kitchen there was no tuttle root, not that there ever was on this island. There were many canned goods, however, and Teyla set the ones she thought useful on the counter, trying to remember all that Charin had taught her, and the additional things she had learned from Delerium. It was only soup after all, how wrong could she get it?
[[Teyla is cooking. Be afraid. Be very very afraid. Come help her cook, or have some of her well meant but horrid tasting soup foisted off on you. ST & LT Very welcome]]