"Caster, come, have some water to warm up."
"Guinevere, thank you, but I can take care of this sort of thing myself."
"Oh, let's not stand on ceremony with each other."
In a small wooden hut, Caster and Guinevere were living a simple life like childhood sweethearts. Of course, if one ignored the stark reality and the shabby surroundings, it was quite pleasant. But the rumbling of their stomachs reminded them to pay attention to the little food they had.
"Damn, just a few sweet potatoes, how could this be enough to eat, really."
There were only four small sweet potatoes, each about the size of a fist. Guinevere carefully placed them near the fire to roast and then began to pout and complain.
Caster smiled and consoled her, "Actually, it's not too bad. Given the weather, the village probably doesn't have much food either. It's good that we have something to eat."
"Uncle Gawain really, though, he's your guardian and he should be looking after you. You know you are the future..."
