Ilmari returned from a night scouting. Things had been relatively quiet; there had been a bright, full moon and only a few clouds out, so aside from avoiding a couple beasts in the forest, things had gone smoothly. He'd even found some berries that were probably an ok kind to eat.
It was hard telling berries apart in the dark sometimes. He'd know for sure once he'd gotten decontaminated. He got in line with other night scouts waiting for decontamination. There were a few questions about what he'd brought back, and he replied with little else than “My secret,” in Finnish-accented Norwegian.
After a thorough wash, rinse and drying, Ilmari threw on his off-duty clothing. After making an official report, he asked if the berries he'd brought back could be delivered to the kitchen when it was determined they were safe. Then he headed to the kitchen himself for some dinner, while a few others were just getting up for breakfast.
The kitchen itself was small, even for serving only part of the base. But it was sufficient for most kinds of cooking or baking anyone could wish to do.
The only other person there was Sofie Borgström, cleaning up from early breakfast. She and Ilmari had spoken a few times, usually with the help of others who could bridge the language gap, or with phrases that could be easily figured out from context. Still, she was one of the people he felt comfortable talking with and she would probably be as excited about his find as he was.
“Good morning,” he said in Norwegian, closer to her Swedish and Icelandic. She returned with what he assumed was a similar greeting. Swedish this time?
The next part was hard. He was excited about his little find, but trying to explain things without someone to help translate could be difficult. There was a silence between them both while he considered his options and she continued cleaning.
“So, I found some berries,” he said. Sofie looked confused at the sudden foreign words, despite Ilmari saying things slowly and enunciating. “BERRIES?”
Sofie looked for something to write or draw with, and handed it to Ilmari, who started doodling. Someone really should make a game like that or something; people on the various bases would probably love it. And it would get around the language barriers. But for right now, he made a very simple image of berries on a bush and a stick figure scout – him - then a second little picture of the berries, and a smiling woman – Sofie.
“Berries?” he repeated, pointing. “I found them.”
“That's good,” she replied smiling. It was a phrase that was similar in Norwegian and the other languages. She asked something else but Ilmari had to make a gesture showing he didn't know what she'd said. She drew a clock with a question mark. Then pointed at the picture of herself.
It took a moment and he wasn't sure but he figured she was wondering when they'd get to the kitchen. Or maybe when she'd get her share. He put the time they should get to the kitchen on the clock. Things would get sorted out later.
There wasn't anything else on his side to tell anyone, so he got some food and listened to Sofie talk about … something. He wasn't paying enough attention to make out details in Icelandic or Swedish. It might have been what she was planning to make for lunch, and now she was asking ... he thought she asked if he wanted something? He shrugged, figuring that was a safe reply.
After dinner, Ilmari bid Sofie “good night” even if it was after sunrise and headed to bed. When he woke up later that afternoon, he was hungry and had some time before his shift. He headed out to the kitchen.
It was pretty dead in the dining area and kitchen, but he saw a small plate of food with his name on it. There was some kind of sweet bread or something, made with the berries he'd brought back. The paper that actually had his name also had a short note, in Swedish, saying Sofie made some treats for everyone and wanted to make sure he got some. He tried a piece and bundled up the rest for his scouting shift. He'd have to go back and bring more berries the next time he could.
When Ilmari was starting work, one of the other scouts mentioned he didn't look as serious as usual that evening. “What has you in a good mood?”
“My secret,” he said. It was nice having a friend or two on the base.
