I was tasked with making one for Jen, but she kept a critical eye on my technique.“Brown, not black. Don’t get it in the fire,” she insisted.“...ike this?”“No, darker. Just not burned.”The marshmallow had shrank and darkened considerably, and I felt like it wasn’t going to get much darker without charring.‘Wooof!’“Not burned!” Jen laughed, grabbing my arm and flicking the long fork around.“I’ll have this one. I don’t care,” I laughed along with her, waving the flames off the charred. Before I left on this mission, the natives and missionaries witnessed a hundred die. He even allowed them weapons, calling it a lesson in fighting. None caused any harm to their slaughterers." Because they were like you?" Me and two ... sisters, but also exceptional warriors." You participated in the slaughter?" Yes. I demonstrated my stealth, cutting the throats of those who barely if ever saw their killer." And these victims? Were they captured soldiers from here?" Never." Because they could. More

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