Some time later, Yehudit returns with a couple dry stones and some other material she had seen her people use to make fire with. There were many methods, but this one will have to do.

With their little setup prepared, Yehudit crouches on her knees and leans leans over a slab with some powdered wood chips she had chipped off a tree with the sharp edge of a rock. She is nothing if not resourceful, when she begins to strike the stones together over the powder and slab.

Something like this takes time. One would almost wonder if she knows what she is doing. However, any attempt to communicate with her goes unnoticed. This is her task right now, and she will finish it if it kills her. The only occasional distraction is the crown sliding a little down her forehead, which she promptly pushes back up before she continues.

Several minutes pass between striking the stones and fanning the heat. Thanks to the dryness of this environment, however, it isn't as long as she expected before she notices a spark of ember catch on the powder.

"Ah!" She fans it some more with her hands, the tiny spark glowing as she does so. Finally, she looks to Atem, nodding her head at a round up bundle of dried up dead grass she had also collected from the area.

Pass the grass, please.