Cooking
Eowyn leaned over the pot and grimaced. The thick, white concoction that was currently bubbling within looked (and tasted) more like glue than stew. Inwardly reflecting how glad she was that she did not have to eat it, she grinned at the thought of offering some to the prince of Mirkwood. She had nothing against the Elf, but the idea of watching his expression as he tasted the food amused her.
She dipped her finger in a second time and licked it. 'Quite disgusting,' she murmured to herself. 'Ah well. Considering it is my first attempt, it is probably better than some people's.'