The boy nodded, and after finishing the soup, he stuck out his tongue and began to meticulously lick the rim of the bowl.
His movements were so earnest that they bordered on reverent, as his tongue circled the inner wall of the bowl.
Under his licking, the wooden bowl became cleaner than if it had been washed.
Yet neither Tucson nor the woman stopped him, silently watching the boy's actions.
The wildmen cherished food greatly, never washing bowls in winter. Especially bowls that had held meat soup; next time hot water was poured in, they could still smell the meat aroma.
However, this behavior was not allowed here, so the bowls had to be licked clean.
After the boy finished licking, Tucson pushed his own bowl in front of the boy,
"You can have these too."
"Thank you, Father!"
The boy finally stopped his bowl-licking, revealing a satisfied smile.
Then he took Tucson's bowl, picked all the meat into his mouth, and began licking the wooden bowl again.
