Though a far cry from the sharpness and precision of a surgical scalpel, the sturdy pocketknife opened its victim’s belly effortlessly. Calloused small fingers pried open the peritoneum and exposed a variety of organs beneath.

Hunched over the frog was a young boy, merely ten years old. His long and unkempt chestnut-colored hair was kept in a high ponytail with a knot, as to not hinder his dark-brown eyes darting around in the cold remains, inspecting them with scientific methodology. He positioned his knife for a cut into the stomach, but stopped when a voice called out for him in the distance.

“Rei! Come home, dinner is ready!”

A sigh escaped Reiland’s cracked lips, and after considering his options for a few seconds, he wiped his knife on his linen coat and put it back into its sheath. The leather tarp covering the ground for the dissection was in fact a convertible pouch, which he wrapped up and attached to the hemp rope serving as his belt. Without losing any more time, he ran towards the village perimeters and the house of his parents.

He arrived at the small house he calls his home shortly after. It was barely better than a shack, situated at the very edge of the village, outside its walls. The shoddy door creaked in its angles as it opened, revealing a singular all-in-one room containing all a family of three needs to survive. The stove was fired up with small copper pot on top, a fragrant stew bubbling inside. Iuli, Reiland’s mother, was sitting at the table and busy dicing herbs and mushrooms to put into the stew.

Her face lightened up as soon as she noticed her son coming home. She greeted him with a big, warm smile. “Rei, I’m glad you’re here! How was your day?” She got up to affectionately ruffle her son’s hair, which he accepted begrudgingly. He had learned of its inevitability a long time ago. However, he ducked away at first chance to spread out his convertible tarp/pouch on the kitchen table.

Reiland resumed his experiment silently, a bit peeved that dinner was, in fact, not ready yet. However, he was soon interrupted by Iuli’s gentle voice. “Oh, you brought some meat for the stew? How kind of you!”

“This is not for…” He started protesting, but Iuli was having none of it.

“Rei, you know I hate that. It’s morbid! Please, would you be so kind as to skin and dice it for me?”

Reiland sighed. He wanted to explore the inner workings of this frog further, maybe finally crack the mystery of the big sack in the lower section.... However, he had been through enough similar quarrels to know his mother wouldn’t budge. He swiftly skinned the frog and prepared it for the stew. His hands were calm, indicating no qualms and plenty of practice and confidently working around the fact that the knife was rather awkwardly-sized for him.

Once done, Reiland made his way to the compost pile next to the shed and dumped the unused organs reluctantly. He then climbed up the large boulder next to their house and casted his expectant gaze onto the gates of the village. He didn’t have to wait long before his father, Kuum, came trotting through them. He started waving and calling out to his son immediately after spotting him. “Hello, Reiland! Good to see you!”

Reiland slid down the more even side of the boulder, and came running at him — and his father, who was expecting his son with open arms, picked him up and let him ride on his broad, muscular shoulders. Even though the path home was short, Kuum took his sweet time and was in no hurry to get home rather later than sooner.

In the meantime, the two of them talked about their days. “Sully is a good man, you know? Even if none of the other villagers have work for me, he always conjures some sort of job out of his back pocket. He doesn’t pay bad, either.”

Reiland recognized the name. Sully Cottan, the mayor of the village – and father of the most annoying kid he knew. Reiland spitefully refused to remember this boy’s name, their rivalry going far back. It started when Kuum gifted him his pocketknife and Reiland started hunting small animals. He was initially driven by the want to eat meat more often, but later his innate scientific curiosity led him to study the inner workings of his prey.

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Despite his aversion to the mayor’s son, Reiland decided it was not the proper time to start an argument. Instead, he let out an ambiguous “hmm.” and started sharing today’s findings with his ride. “Did you know that frogs will eat tadpoles? I watched it today in the pond behind the dead trees! Isn’t that crazy? You know, with tadpoles being frog babies?”

Reiland had known that tadpoles would turn to frogs ever since he heard another kid talk about it to her friends. He didn’t believe it at first, so he had promptly stolen a bowl standing on the windowsill of the mean-looking old lady, filled it with pond water and tadpoles and observed. To his surprise, some of the tadpoles had actually sprouted legs and became tiny frogs, slowly losing their tail when growing. He had repeated the experiment for two years, until Kuum accidently knocked the bowl down and shattered it.

His Father listened to Reiland’s stories with great interest, until they finally reached home a few minutes later. The door opened with a familiar creak. Iuli, though a bit dazzled by the entering rays of light, greeted her husband and son with a magnanimous smile and wave. Having heard their chatter long in advance, she had already prepared three wooden bowls full of steaming woodland stew.

To everyone’s surprise, Kuum produced two thirds of a big loaf of white bread from his backpack. He presents it with a big gesture and a “Tada!”. Iuli’s face flushed red, and she moved in to scold her husband. “Kuum! Just how much did that cost?? You know we don’t…” She got interrupted by Kuum nonchalantly drawing her in with his free arm. He softly whispered something in her ear, to quiet for Reiland’s inquisitive ears to pick up.

Iuli seemed to calm down after that. “Alright… Might as well enjoy it.” An equal mix of dejection and anticipation swung in her voice. She cut half of the loaf into three big pieces. Of which Reiland received the notably biggest one. The remainder got stored in the rickety cabinet serving as a food pantry.

They all sat down around the table. Reiland wanted nothing more than wolf down the stew and savor the taste of the bread, but know to wait. He folded his hands in prayer, beyond the point of arguing with his parents – it was futile. He joined his parents, mumbling less-than-enthusiastically:

“Thank you, Mother Mysticia, for the countless blessing we need in our life.

Thank you, Father Grantatio, for the countless blessings that make it enjoyable.

Thank you, Spirit Obscurantha, for embracing us at the end of it all and leading us to Oblivion.

Through your grace we are born, we live, we pass away. May your gift keep on giving for yet another day.”

As soon as the prayer was done, Reiland was already eating. If he had been pressed to give this soup a rating, he would have rated it better than the one he had the day before, but worse than the ones this season gives usually. The bread was good on its own already, though quite stale and dry – soaked in the stew, it was absolutely delicious. It had been a week since they had any bread, but he couldn’t remember the last time they had bread this nice.

Kuum seemed to agree with the soup rating, since he pursed his lips and inspected the chunks of meat skeptically. “Is that frog?” A pout hushed on Reiland’s face. As expected, Iuli rushed in to aid her son. “So, what if? Our Rei worked hard to catch that, yet you complain? Shame on you!” Even though her tone was harsh, the smile on her face betrayed her not so serious nature.

The same thing happened on Kuum’s face, who had no choice but to admit his defeat: “Oh, how unwise of me to challenge the culinary skills of our great master cook. I will scold my tongue, so it properly recognizes this delicacy for what it is.” The two of them laugh. Reiland, on the other hand, thinks to himself: “Catching frogs is not hard work…”

The family of three continued to talk about their respective days. Iuli recounted her foraging trip to the forest, giving a quick overview on what she kept and what she sold. Kuum reported a Day-Job at the mayor’s, cutting lawn in their garden. He was paid decent money, and even got aforementioned loaf of bread. Apparently, it was too old and stale for the tastes of the mayor’s family – their loss, Reiland thought.

Reiland remained quiet during all this, lost in his own thoughts and thinking about the experiments he conducted today while he quietly nibbling on his bread.

When they were finally done with dinner an hour later, Kuum started packing up the copper pot, the bowls and the spoons quietly. He tried opening the pantry’s creaking door as silently as possible, as to not wake up his soon who’s sleeping with his head on Iuli’s lap. Iuli moved next to Reiland and gently caressed his head, enjoying the one moment where he did not try to slip away.