A Meated Feast

In time, my hunger roused itself and smote me. Therefore, under the dire threat of another such assault did I begin to search about my salty pouch in hope of finding some tasty morsel to stay the growing insurgency of my innard (Note: unlike the natives who possess multiple innards, Weems are satisfied, and quite cheery, to have but one.)

So did I creep through every crevice and plumb each pocket within the Sha-Una’s cavernous pouch, and yet I found no crunchy bit nor bulky crumb to drive my hunger back from whence it sprung. Fear took me. Only one course of action could my mind now conceive. To slay my hunger ere he slay me. Thus did I clamp tight my lips and thrust quivering fingers into my nostrils. I would choke my hunger away, for what hunger may endure where air itself has fled? As I felt that vicious hunger wane within me I laughed to myself in victory! Foolish hunger! Foolish to contend with such a Weem as I! Then I believe that I passed out, for I remember nothing more.

I awoke some time later upon a weedy gnoll. The Sha-Una I spied beside a fire, crouched low on a haunch and turning a bit of buttered varmit upon a spit.

“Ho, Sha-Una!” I cried out. “What flesh cooks fair upon that rosy-lighted flame?”

The Sha-Una then removed a tastily roasted bit of varmit from the fire and bid me eat. What commenced was in sure, a grand feast of finely meated bone. My victory over that contumacious hunger was now complete. And once again, I owed all to my hairy ally, the Sha-Una.