Day Seventy-Nine: Still Straw Sandals? (Part Two)

I turned my head and noticed Xiao Hei walking toward the lemon tree. I called out to it twice, but quite uncharacteristically, it ignored me. This caught me off guard; Xiao Hei had never acted like this before. It had always responded whenever I called its name.

It wasn't until the third time I called that it finally stopped. Even then, it didn't look back at me, keeping its head turned toward the front as if it were hesitating or staring at something in a trance.

"Xiao Hei!" I walked over and called to it softly. Xiao Hei snapped its head around, as if jolted from its thoughts, and immediately rushed over to me. I made a point of looking in the direction it had been staring to see what had captivated it—was it an animal, or something peculiar?

But aside from the dense woods and birds taking flight, there was nothing to be found—no animals, no food, nothing unusual at all. Still, the incident left a weight on my heart.

Xiao Hei was definitely not acting like itself. I was certain of that, and the memory of it returning in the middle of the night kept nagging at me. My curiosity burned to find out what had happened to it. If I hadn't called out just now, it likely would have wandered off. Where was it going? What was it doing? Who was it looking for? Food seemed unlikely. Did it have another owner? Could it be... Countless questions flooded my mind, but none had answers; each one only birthed more uncertainty.

Throughout the rest of the day, these questions haunted me. It wasn't until I returned to the treehouse that they finally quieted, but a decision had taken root in my heart: the next time Xiao Hei went out, I would follow it to see exactly where it was going.

The cleaned rabbit was chopped into pieces, save for the four legs. It was still early, and with the sun yet to set, I had plenty of time to prepare the roasted rabbit legs for Xiao Hei. With time on my side, I decided to marinate them first so the flavor would penetrate deeper.

I modeled the preparation after how I used to marinate tenderloin. I pounded the legs for a few minutes, sprinkled them evenly with salt, and poured on some soy sauce. I then mixed some arrowroot powder—which I had prepared previously—with water to create a paste and poured it into the basin with the legs.

Arrowroot powder acts like starch; using it to marinate meat keeps it tender and smooth. Back in civilization, we always used wheat starch to marinate tenderloin, which made it exceptionally delicious. Arrowroot powder served much the same purpose.

Tenderloin usually only needs ten to fifteen minutes to marinate, but since the rabbit legs were left whole, they would likely need more time. I didn't want to cut them open; while slicing would help the flavors soak in better for a stew, this was for roasting! If I cut the meat now, it would lose too much moisture, and the roasted result would be tougher and less enjoyable than if left intact. I would only slice them during the roasting process to help them cook through, at which point I could brush them with saltwater to make them perfect.

I couldn't waste the marinating time, so I started on the braised rabbit meat. Although the rabbits here were plump, they had very little fat; the meat beneath the skin was quite lean. I placed the rabbit in a pot to boil, skimming off the foam, then added soy sauce, sugar, salt, and a splash of oil.

After covering the pot for about five minutes, the liquid reduced. I began tossing the meat with a spatula until the sauce had completely glazed the rabbit. It tasted excellent. Once I took the braised dish off the heat, I started on the roasted legs.

Dusk was approaching. The rich, savory scent of the braised rabbit was incredibly tempting. Needless to say, Xiao Hei was already circling nearby. To keep it occupied, I grabbed a piece of fruit and held it out, signaling for it to take it up to Lightning, who was in the upper level of the treehouse.

At first, Xiao Hei misunderstood, thinking it was its own dinner. It turned its head away in a huff, emitting a disgruntled sound from its throat as if to say, "I caught the rabbit! And you're not even going to let me eat?"

It took three tries for it to understand my intent. It finally snatched the shriveled fruit and left. With that beast gone, the place fell quiet, and I didn't have to worry about it stealing the scorching hot rabbit meat.

The marinating was done, so I skewered the legs onto branches and began the roasting. To my amusement, Xiao Hei, perhaps afraid of missing out, had actually brought Lightning down with it. At first glance, I thought it was eating Lightning!

It was carrying Lightning by the scruff of its neck, and the little thing didn't struggle at all, simply letting Xiao Hei deposit it beside me. I shook my head with a wry smile; Xiao Hei was truly spoiled and getting craftier by the day. It was even starting to guard its share from me.

I gave it some of the braised meat and gestured to the roasting legs to let it know it should settle down. Only then did Xiao Hei calm down. Poor Lightning sat beside the basin, staring with wide eyes as Xiao Hei ate.

Seeing and smelling the food, Lightning began to yelp. It was hungry too. There was no helping it; it was part of our little family now, and I couldn't neglect it.

I propped the rabbit legs near the fire and mixed a cup of honey water for Lightning. I always felt this honey water lacked nutrition—otherwise, why was Lightning still so tiny after all this time? It didn't seem to have grown at all.

I roasted the meat with one hand and fed Lightning with the other, all while listening to Xiao Hei crunching bones nearby. What a heartless creature! By the time the outer skin of the rabbit legs turned a charred gold and the exposed meat formed a crispy, hard crust, Lightning had finished its drink.

I set it back down beside Xiao Hei and focused on the roasting. I sliced into the legs, brushed them with salt and oil, and listened to them sizzle. After a few more rotations and bastings of salt water and oil, they were finally done.

I gave the first two legs to Xiao Hei. It had quite an appetite—perhaps due to its size and activity level. It finished both, leaving nothing but the bones.

I finished my two legs as well. They were delicious; the seasoning had elevated the flavor to another level. The crust was crisp and made a satisfying crunch, and while the meat was firm, it was incredibly fragrant. The best part, however, was the meat near the bone—exceptionally tender, overflowing with juices, and leaving a lingering, savory aftertaste.

The braised rabbit was good, too, though I might have used a little too little water, making it a bit salty. Next time I have rabbit, I might consider roasting a whole one. If only I had some cumin, pepper, or chili...