Isabella first cleared a big flat stone near the main fire pit.
The stone surface had been used before for roasting meat, so it was already smooth and familiar. She had Cyrus help her scrub it with clean snow and hot water, then dry it with animal skin until no ash or old fat remained.
She did not plan to bake the cake directly on this stone, but she needed a clean working area.
Cyrus moved quietly around her, doing everything she pointed at.
He carried sacks of ground grain, jars of honey, and a clay pot of thick beast milk to her side. He placed them carefully so she did not have to stretch too far. Whenever she bent a little, his hand appeared under her elbow as support.
"You are treating me like I am made of glass," Isabella complained, but she did not actually shake his hand away.
"If you break, I will die," Cyrus replied honestly.
Isabella almost slipped with the wooden bowl in her hand.
