'So did you mash the potatoes?'

With wood and wild fire, the animals and them around it. They stare into the colors of nature. He turns to her and asks 'is there really anything in particular we are looking at?'. Her obvious answer was 'are we even looking?'. He decided he wants to make sausages in the fire. He takes out the grill stick, which has stories of it own, cover portions of it with sausages holding it over the fire.

This time it was her turn to ask a question knowing very well that he wouldn't or couldn't answer. Then again how many times do we really ask questions we do not know the answers to. Rarely. 'Are those the ones I like ?'

Removing two disposable plates, splitting the sausages into two portions. The earth stood still to describe this one scene. His eyes projecting a picture of him about to eat them in its perfect state with everything in exactly the right place around him. The cold increasing slowly enough for his mind to subconsciously rub his feet against hers. Them at the perfect distance from him, feeling the heat on his face and the ever so loud cry of the smell of a perfectly made sausage.
'So did you mash the potatoes?'

With the plates with only sausages they both put their backs to the ground and rest their heads on the small rock, they look at the stars through the altering tips of the wild fire. Since it was her turn again. 'So are we looking again ?'