"Don't let him get in too deep-" The pit is, in fact, quite deep to help with the drying. "I try and cut 'em all blunt but he might get hurt if he keeps crawl'n in like that."

Called over her shoulder as she turns on her heel and starts walking for the open smokehouse doors, muttering under her breath. "Pff. Dried meat. Don't know what's good for her do you? Come on then. We'll get her cleaned up and fed, little thing."

The actual smoking is done in the far back- locked doors of a metal cabinet, a tray of burning chips below keeping it warm, almost stifling to that side of the building. Hanging in links along chains up above are lines upon lines of sausage for which the Estate is named- on the table? Trimmings from the grinder. Here she sets down Purrelden, pointing at the wall closes to the door. "Grab a bowl from the shelf and fill it from the pump."

Shelves of bowls and racks of knives- and indeed a basin with a pump for water, rest there.