Melia slid the [Noble Indulgence] into her inventory. The occasions where she envisioned it being useful were few and far between…but there was a world where she could see herself giving it to some pompous jerk who really needed to be taken down a peg or two.
Instead, she turned her focus to more mundane sweets. Things that would make her happy and bring smiles to people’s faces without transforming them physically. She decided to tackle something she’d had a hankering for for a very long time: sweet rolls.
Warm, gooey, fresh-out-of-the-oven rolls, browned to golden perfection, smothered in thick, creamy icing, and spiced delicately with tacky cinnamon.
The perfect homage to a Saturday morning.
…not that it was Saturday or morning, but Melia could make exceptions.
As she wasn’t trying to make something that had fun or interesting effects, she pulled out the ingredients and walked Y’cennia through making them for herself. Fortunately, the developers of the game had included countless recipes that shouldn’t really belong in a fantasy world, but the players might get a kick out of seeing. [Cinnamon Rolls] were one of those. The catkin didn’t have any of Melia’s fancy skills, so preparing and baking the rolls was a messy, time-consuming ordeal. Luckily, the rolls only took about 20 minutes to bake, so Melia and Y’cennia were able to clean the kitchen while the others explored the rest of the small house.
Hearing the others thump around upstairs brought a smile to Melia’s face. This house wasn’t a home, not exactly; Melia never decorated it with the intent to make it feel lived in. It was more of a museum to all the fascinating or bizarre things she could craft, trinkets the game gave her, or other unique pieces of furniture that were hard to get, but functionally useless. With how much of a time-sink crafting professions were (especially in the early days), most of these items were incredibly rare. Melia had always felt conflicted in the game: she wanted to share her joys and triumphs with everybody else, but she didn’t want to be spooked by random people barging into her house, so she set access to her estate as private. Only a very few people on her friends list were allowed inside, so it was a nice change to allow people she trusted to see her treasures.
Melia’s powerful hearing let her pick up a few “oohs” and “ahhs,” as well as a few cries of astonishment, amusement, or befuddlement. She chuckled to herself. Not everything she put in her house made sense. She figured either Brandy or her [Retainers] were leading a tour- because the group was moving as a unit, starting and stopping while clumped together -which must have been winding down, as footsteps began creaking down the stairs. Perfect timing, too, because just as their voices became legible, the timer on her oven went off.
“Oh!” Y’cennia leaped up. “Don’t want to let them burn!”
The catgirl was extra-invested in the goodies, since she did most of the work making them. Melia provided the ingredients, but it was Y’cennia’s (hopefully lack of) blood, sweat, and tears that molded them into what they were today. Which was golden little mountains with the perfect amount of crunchy burntness. Y’cennia shimmied her way into some oven mitts (because she wasn’t a fireproof dragon-gnome) and carefully retrieved the pan.
“Here we go!” She said cheerfully. Somewhere in the middle of preparing the rolls, Y’cennia had switched from a strict rule-follower unwilling to budge in the slightest from what the recipe called for, to learning how to roll with the punches. That’s why one of the rolls was shaped more like an oval than a circle, which led to the creation of a heart-shaped roll and a cat’s-paw-shaped roll. Neither of them truly held their artistic design after puffing up in the oven, but if Melia looked really closely, she could tell. She watched with satisfaction as Y’cennia scooped up a single roll, slathered it in icing, and slid it onto a plate.
[Cinnamon Bun]
Level: 0
Rarity: Uncommon
Quality: 4-stars
On use: after consuming an entire roll, gain 12 Stamina and 6 Spirit.
Made by: Y’cennia McKenneth
Y’cennia was very pleased, and rightly so. Most people didn’t achieve 4-star results on their first attempt at making a recipe, even with high-quality ingredients. But more than the system-verified results, what made this attempt a real success was how good it smelled. Melia’s belly began rumbling, and that alone told everybody nearby that Y’cennia had made something worth eating.
“Don’t let me stop you,” Y’cennia grinned, pushing the plate toward Melia. They made enough for everyone and then some.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Melia said happily. The rest of the party was entering the kitchen and Melia was about to offer them the second helping when Y’cennia froze.
“Cennie?” Jessica asked, slightly worried. She’d just sat down at a stool and her hand was halfway toward the tray of goodies when she paused. “Are you okay?”
Y’cennia didn’t answer right away. She was staring into space, as one did when they were intensely focused on their system, with the rest of the world like useless noise. Her ears twitched, her tail flicked. Her eyes grew wide as saucers.
“I…,” she gasped breathily, raising a hand to her chest, “I’ve got…a class evolution.”
The whole kitchen seemed to freeze. They likely understood the words, but their brains were busy processing this profound moment. Them! [Sunrise]! A team of second-rate nobodies had a member evolve a class!
The kitchen erupted with noise.
“Congratulations!!” Some yelled.
“Way to go!” Came from others.
Melia, watching the girl’s original teammates dogpile on top of her, clapping her on the back and hugging her, was slightly more subdued. Not because she wasn’t happy, but she didn’t quite have the same sense of understanding for what this truly meant. For how hard the team had worked and how it exemplified their diligence, commitment, and perseverance in seeing this through. They weren’t people who had life given to them on a silver platter (until Melia came into their lives), so seeing one of their own achieve a specialization was something of a life goal.
Melia stood next to Brandy and the [Retainers] and watched with warm smiles as the group tossed her around in a good-natured way, messing up her hair and otherwise building her up. After the initial school wore down, they gave the girl some room, though all of them, Y’cennia included, were all sporting massive, beaming grins.
“What did you get?” Jessica eventually asked. It was a valid question, one Melia was very interested in, too.
“[Mixologist],” Y’cennia breathed. She seemed shaky on her feet, so Layalee smoothly guided her into a chair as Lethia gave her a cup of water. The [Cinnamon Rolls] were completely forgotten for the moment…so Melia swiped two and stuffed them into her cheeks like a chipmunk. [Sunrise] gathered around her and let her collect her thoughts.
“It’s a combination of [Alchemy] and [Cooking],” Y’cennia eventually explained. “I…don’t really know what it does, because I didn’t get any obvious skills. Well, I got a few skills, but they’re all ones I’ve seen Melia use while [Cooking]. It says a [Mixologist] understands the subtleties between passion and poison. What…does that even mean?”
“I have no clue,” Jessica slapped her on the back. “But we’re here to learn it alongside you!”
Y’cennia finally had enough of staring into her system screen. She shook her head, glanced around at her teammates, slumped into her chair…and started crying. She was smiling so broadly that her small fangs were clearly on display, and her hands were busy wiping away messy tears. This truly was a moment to celebrate.
Which, of course, meant it was the perfect time for somebody’s stomach to rumble, and this time it wasn’t even Melia’s. The day was clearly dragging into evening, and they hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Melia was already coming up with a menu to reward her team, but inspiration struck her.
“I know just the thing!” Melia perked up. “Let’s go to Penny’s!”
“Melia,” Jessica said, still grinning, “Reservations are, like, booked for months. I’m pretty sure we want to eat before then.”
“Yes,” Melia agreed, “But did you forget? Penny has a table open for gnomes. At least we can go see if it’s available. If it isn’t…then I’ll cook something myself.”
Because it was the middle of summer in Horizon, it was still light outside even this late in the day. The team got back into carriages, and Brandy held Melia close while they rode Midna back into the nobles’ district. Fortunately, Penny’s wasn’t across town, and the journey only took a couple of minutes. As they pulled up to the tall walls of the fancy restaurant, a crowd of people could be seen mingling by the gates. Some were dinner-hopefuls trying their luck at a canceled reservation, while others were simply there to mingle in a large crowd. Some people saw their carriages approach and gave them dirty looks, while others were more pitying, likely assuming that medium or low nobles were trying to buy their way into last-minute arrangements, which would never work. Those who spotted Brandy on Midna were more confused than anything, because it wasn’t often a single rider came to dine at Penny’s, much less on such an exotic mount. Brandy had Midna pull up next to the front carriage as it was stopped at the gates, just in time to hear Lethia bargaining with the guard.
“I’m sorry,” the man said in a calm, practiced tone. “The house is fully booked tonight. You’re welcome to wait for the possibility of a cancellation, but as you can see, there’s a line.”
“Indeed,” Lethia nodded. “We understand. However, we have an understanding with the owner. Perhaps you are aware of the gnome clause?”
“Eh?” The man said. He was probably so used to the same song and dance of people trying to weasel their way inside that he wasn’t actually paying attention. He glanced at the [Retainer], as if finally realizing he wasn’t talking to some average noble’s servant.
“Are we able to get in?” Melia asked, riding up. The man turned to face her, was instantly captivated by Midna, and then stared up at Brandy. Melia chuckled and shook her head. “I’m an acquaintance of Penny’s, you might say.”
The man finally diverted his eyes to Melia, and, if they weren’t already, they’d have grown wide. Melia smiled and waved as she pulled out a [Blue Ribbon] and handed it to him. The man stared at it, dumbfounded, until Lethia cleared her throat.
“Lady Meliastraza Obsidianheart has arrived.”
The guard quickly stepped back to converse with a colleague as Melia sighed.
“I guess I’m not used to name-dropping. Is this how rich people are supposed to act?”
“I dunno,” Brandy mused. “You’re the richest, so you tell me.”
The second guard sent a runner into the restaurant and it was only a matter of moments before he returned, panting and out of breath.
“Y…yes!” He said. “Y…your…table…awaits! Follow me!”
“Maybe you should send someone else?” Brandy asked. She cast a small [Renew] on the runner, who bolted up straight like he’d received an injection of caffeine.
“I’MFINEREALLY!!” He blurted before catching himself. The others got a good chuckle out of his antics as they stepped out of their carriages. Alastair went first, the gentleman that he was, and he helped the others, still wearing their fine dresses, dismount without falling on their faces and making fools of themselves. The looks they got as they were paraded into the building from the waiting crowd were bad enough.
Once they were inside, the world quieted down, due in part to the crowd left outside and to the subtle enchantments built into the walls. Melia was reminded once again that this was the fanciest of fancy restaurants, rated just as highly as any Michelin-star establishment back on earth. They were brought to the desk of the Maitre D, where, unsurprisingly, Penny herself was waiting. Some of the people mingling about in the entryway looked at the [Master Chef] with wide eyes, most likely surprised to see her out of the kitchen or wondering who these guests were to be seated by the owner personally. For her part, Penny did not care for outside appearances in the slightest.
“Lady Meliastraza!” She cried as soon as Melia stepped foot inside the building. “You came!”
The large, grandmotherly woman thundered over and bent down, lifting Melia up into a crushing hug. Melia laughed and patted her on the arm.
“We did! It’s a special occasion; Y’cennia got her class evolution and we wanted to celebrate. Do you have a table open?”
“For you, master, there will always be a table. How many are dining tonight?”
“Well,” Melia began, looking over her large party. She wasn’t super familiar with typical numbers for casual gatherings, but 9 people seemed on the higher side. Lethia took a step forward and spoke on behalf of the [Retainers].
“Madame Penny,” she said, shaking her head. “We will wait outside. If you can accommodate the Mistress, that will be enough.”
“Hey!” L’menia grumbled. “I’m hungry, too! I wanna eat fancy food!”
“We have fancy food at home,” Layalee patted the grumpy tigerkin consolingly. But Penny let out a loud laugh.
“What are you talking about? Of course you’ll join! You’ve served Lady Meliastraza faithfully for the longest, so of course you’ll dine with her! Besides,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, “Somebody needs to serve her at the table. Are you going to let my staff take that honor from you?”
“Ah,” Lethia perked up. “I see. We require a table for 9, then.”
Brandy picked Melia up so she wouldn’t get caught underfoot amongst all the tall and hefty folk, so she was free to gaze about the dining hall as Penny led them forward. Melia was curious where they’d be seated…what sort of space did Penny reserve for special dignitaries? Knowing that she was the intended dignitary bumped the evaluation higher in Melia’s mind. If the table was open to any gnome at all without any special consideration, Melia didn’t think they’d be given the best seat in the house. Not that Penny would stick them in a dank corner, but it seemed like the sort of thing that might be considered a gimmick in this world, something done for laughs rather than a designated honor.
But since Melia was aware of her own special standing with Horizon’s [Master Chef], she knew better. She imagined a grand table like those featured in Renaissance paintings; a long banquet-like thing covered in turkeys, goblets of wine, and tumbling bunches of grapes. But she also couldn’t really see a place as popular as this restricting so much space for a group of people who might never show up. Maybe it was a small round thing where they’d all cramp together in a familiar sort of way…in a room full of cigar smoke where they could play poker with dogs? No, that was a bit too far out in left field. In some stories Melia had read, the owners of fancy restaurants like this sometimes had private booths or entire floors closed off to the general public, set aside for personal use. Would they be led to a rooftop garden or veranda?
After climbing a lavish flight of stairs, Penny led them down a brightly lit corridor filled with private rooms. But when she pulled out a key and unlocked the door, they were met, not with a shoddy closet, but a beautifully furnished, dimly lit balcony booth that overlooked the main dining hall below.
“Woah,” Jessica muttered, stepping inside. “Look at that!”
She walked up to the banister and waved her hand through the air above it. Instead of swishing around and passing through dead space, the air rippled. Melia took a closer look at the enchantments and was impressed. If she read it right (and she was probably one of the few people who could), the balcony was layered with climate control, sound muffling, and a sort of one-way tint. They could look out and observe everything going on below, but if somebody dining in the main room looked up at their booth, all they would see was a dim shadow of muted colors. Perhaps they might see the candelabras on the walls, but it would take a very keen eye to spot any details of an individual sitting within.
“So this is the gnome’s table?” Ellesea asked as she was seated by Layalee. “No wonder noble families are so jealous. If you’re comparing standings in the kingdom, it doesn’t seem fair.”
“Pah,” Penny barked, “Let them fester. It’s my restaurant. I’ll seat who I want to seat. And now I have. Lady Meliastraza, thank you for finally patronizing my store. I’m eager to hear what you think of my skills. They’ve improved over the years and I’m sure they won’t disappoint.”
“If they’re anything like the sandwiches you made us when we last visited, I know I won’t be able to complain,” Melia grinned.
“I didn’t get to try any sandwiches,” Brandy complained. She glanced at the table and spied the various sets of silverware, but she didn’t see a menu. “Will you bring us menus? I don’t know what you have to offer.”
“You are Lady Brandywine, aren’t you?” Penny asked respectfully. While she seemed to recognize the [Saint], unlike the members of the church, Penny didn’t seem overly reverential. Penny shook her head and smiled. “You’ll need no menus tonight. I shall prepare a feast! A grand feast!”
“I hope you’re all hungry,” Brandy mused as Penny marched out the door in high spirits.
“Doesn’t matter if we are or not,” Jessica refuted. She grinned and pointed at Melia. “No matter how much we have left over, I’m sure this glutton will eat the rest.”
Only a few moments had passed since Penny left when several servers let themselves quietly into the booth. They came bearing warm, damp cloths for the party to wipe their hands with, as well as a cart bearing a deep basin of cool water, should they need a deeper rinse. If they thought it odd that they were serving a party of rank 3 adventurers, they said nothing, not even as Alastair rose, walked resolutely to the basin, and washed his hands clean. It was a little telling that most of the damp cloths were slightly more stained than the usual patrons when they collected them, but again, they took the towels with silent bows and retreated without a word. Moments later, two different servers entered, bearing small plates with what looked like a pungent white cheese on a wheat thin.
Jessica frowned as she stared down at the cheese ‘n cracker.
“What is this?” the [Hunter] complained. She poked the slice of cheese with her fork, which was not the correct fork. Lethia was seated next to her and gently instructed her to pick up the small fork on the outside. Jessica rolled her eyes.
In truth, it wasn’t much more than a mouthful, not even for Melia, who had the smallest mouth out of all of them…if she didn’t do something disturbing, like open it far larger than it had any right to be.
“Don’t worry,” Layalee bubbled from her other side. “There will be many courses.”
“There better be,” Jessica grumped darkly. She leaned forward toward Ellesea and stage whispered. “People really pay multiple gold for this?”
“Oh yes,” Ellesea said instantly. “Sometimes more.”
She skilfully maneuvered the cracker with the cheese onto her fork like it was some sort of budget spatula and daintily brought it to her lips. The way her eyes closed slowly and she savored every chew made it seem like the gods themselves blessed that piece of cheese personally. Jessica narrowed her eyes and glanced down at her own empty plate. Was she living in a different world?
“My lord, my ladies,” a server announced as the next set of servers came in. “Next, we have an offering of pea soup.”
Perhaps if they were offering it to somebody at a bar, as it came in what looked like a shot glass. Melia was inclined to side with Jessica on this one, but she was more amused than anything. The servers whisked away the old plates and set the tiny cup of soup in front of everyone. Melia watched Ellesea reach for a spoon, while Y’cennia decided she was going to drink it like tea. She even lifted her pinky awkwardly. Jessica watched them both and decided she would be a barbarian. She picked up the cup and knocked it back like a glass of whiskey, smacking her lips loudly as she smiled. Ellesea looked horrified.
Very soon after came the actual soup. Something the group could get more than a single bite of. Judging from the orange color, it had something to do with pumpkin, which Melia’s refined palate confirmed. Or maybe not refined…simply powerful. She also detected some sage and a delightful medley of butter, heavy cream, and subtle spices. Melia took a liking to this one and gladly ate all of Brandy’s, who wrinkled her nose up at the presence of onions.
Next was something slightly more substantial, if only because it had a little meat, and not because of excess quantity. Mushrooms, stuffed with cheese, some sort of fine pork, and breadcrumbs. Onions were conspicuously missing from Brandy’s dishes here on out, telling Melia that somebody was paying attention.
The group was given a moment of respite to let their palates settle and tongues adjust. Pleasant chatter filled the booth as the group relaxed, the heavy atmosphere of dining somewhere they didn’t really belong having worn off. Jessica was loudly making jokes at Al’s expense, who looked quite grateful to be seated several places away. After several minutes, the servers returned.
“Normally we get the salad at the start,” Y’cennia murmured as a plate was placed before her. She looked up at her server and smiled; she didn’t want to appear ungrateful.
“You call this a salad?” Jessica grinned. She speared the half-slice of a cherry tomato and popped it in her mouth. “It’s, like, a single leaf.”
“There’s more than one leaf, you troll,” Ellesea rolled her eyes. “And this is only the fifth course.”
“What do you mean, fifth?” Jessica asked. Her smile fell slightly as Ellesea’s smirk rose.
“If this is a traditional meal, there will be twelve courses.”
“Twelve?” Jessica repeated, looking down at her plate. Melia could practically see her brain calculating.
It might be an abacus, but it was still calculating.
Indeed, Ellesea was correct. The dishes came steadily, neither too quick nor overstaying their welcome. There was fish, a seared salmon fillet with lemon; a roasted duck with orange glaze. Afterward came a lemon sorbet, and even Jessica was looking slightly relieved. Perhaps her stomach was not used to such finery, or maybe she was getting overwhelmed by the unending onslaught of new dishes, but she assumed this was nearing the end. Melia agreed.
They were both wrong.
After the cleanser was removed, herb-crusted venison medallions were placed before them. Melia could see several hands slowly gravitate towards their respective bellies, perhaps in part because of the tightness of the corsets. But Melia had no such reservations or constraints, and happily devoured everything she was given.
When the plates were emptied and scraped clean by eager devourers, the servers cleaned the settings once again and allowed the group a small respite. When they returned, it was not with individual servings, but a large platter filled with a myriad of cheeses. There were flavors and textures all across the board; soft and firm, aged and young. There were spirals of various crackers, several pots of jam, spicy and savory dips, and a varied assortment of nuts. The group was allowed to mingle during this course, as discussion was encouraged due to the proximity required with their neighbors to procure their chosen cheese.
The dessert finally came, and everyone (save Melia) looked like they were just before their bursting point…or like they were about to slip into a coma. Citrusy fruit tarts were provided along with their choice of wine, coffee, or tea. Brandy lit up at the mention of wine while Melia soured. Her one- and only -experience was bitter.
And yet, as if to defy all expectations, a single course remained. Penny herself led the servers in with trays artfully decorated with bite-sized sweets. Brandy instantly zoned in on the chocolates, while Jessica’s eyes locked onto a macaron. She picked up the small, colorful sandwich cookie and gave it a complicated look as she spun it before her eyes.
“Somehow, it just hits different when it’s not the size of a couch.”
“Penny,” Melia eventually said as the rest of the party leaned back in their seats, fully content. “That was absolutely delightful. Indeed, your skills have grown tremendously. That was perhaps the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“You praise me greatly, master,” Penny laughed, “Even if I know it’s a lie. I’ve tried your food. It’s a lofty mark I’ve yet to meet.”
“Well, one day, when you think you’ve reached it, have us back,” Melia smiled. “I’m sure we’d love to offer our expert opinions.”
Personally, this was the fanciest dinner Melia had ever eaten, and she had no qualms telling Penny so. Maybe the [Chef] herself held Melia in too high a regard. Penny laughed and shook her head, saying skill like Melia’s only came around once a century.
“Ah,” Melia perked up. “Speaking of skill…it might not be anything you’d put on tables like these, but you should try this. It’s what gave Y’cennia her class evolution!”
“Wait, what?” The catgirl perked up. She’d been rubbing her belly in soothing circles, but now she seemed panicked. “You can’t show Penny that! She’s a [Master Chef]!”
“And we all start from somewhere!” Penny said. Melia pulled out the [Cinnamon Roll] and handed it over. Like a true foodie, Penny’s eyes lit up with excitement, and she quickly tore off a chunk without reservation and tossed it into her mouth.
“Oh gods,” Y’cennia wilted. “You fed my food to a [Master Chef]....”
“Mmmm,” Penny said thoughtfully. “And I’m glad she did. It’s…not perfect. Not by any means. But I can tell you made this with heart. Did Lady Meliastraza teach you?”
“Yes,” Y’cennia nodded meekly.
“Good,” Penny beamed. “Keep it up! You’re on the right track. As for your class…,” she asked leadingly. Y’cennia nodded.
“I’m something called a [Mixologist]. Have you heard of it?”
Penny shook her head.
“No, I’m afraid I haven’t. But that’s not saying much, because I don’t get out of the kitchen much these days. Even in my youth, I never had much interest in anything else but [Cooking]. What was your base class?”
“I’m an [Alchemist].”
“And there you have it. I couldn’t tell you the first thing about [Alchemy]. But, girl,” Penny added with a kind smile, “If you can continue producing results like these,” she said, tossing another chunk of [Roll] into her mouth, “You’ll do just fine.”
Penny could only spare so long to mingle with [Sunrise], no matter how much she wanted to impress Melia and her friends, so she left them with kind words and a fake scowl. Melia had offered to pay, which seemed to offend the old lady, and the old lady threatened to send the [Retainers] off with more food if Melia insisted. Seeing as they were about to lock themselves into an awkward battle of one-upmanship, Melia relented. But before they left, she pulled Penny aside, out of earshot of everyone except maybe Brandy, and pulled out a plain sack.
“I made something weird,” Melia frowned. “It’s not fit for consumption.”
Penny was about to open her mouth to protest, but Melia shook her head.
“Oh, we both know I made it, so it probably tastes divine. I’m not saying it’s a failure. I’m saying it isn’t something I should go spreading around by myself. I think I might not be the most…observant, shall we say?”
Penny peeked inside the sack and raised an eyebrow.
“Cake?” She asked. “[Noble Indulgance]?”
“It’s got an effect,” Melia grinned. “I know we both love those. It’s a shame we didn’t get to try out any of your specialties tonight. Maybe next time. I was going to let this thing fester in my inventory forever, but maybe you’d get a kick out of it?”
Penny quickly closed the bag and held it closely to her chest.
“Thank you, Lady Meliastraza.”
She gave Melia a big hug…and then she was gone.
The group lingered for a while before eventually working up the energy to get up and leave. Night was falling outside, and though the sky was turning silky blue, it wasn’t dark. Enough light lingered from the stars, the moon, and the many lamps on all the corners that Horizon was still well lit. The crowds outside of Penny’s had died down considerably, with only one or two stragglers lingering with fading hopes. [Sunrise] decided that, perhaps, they had eaten a tad too much, and if they didn’t want to let their lifestyle lapse, an after-dinner walk might be in order. The [Retainers] went to summon their rides, while the group sauntered down the noble streets. For all its pretentious appearances, the nobles’ district was both clean and safe. Enough so that other nightly goers could be seen strolling serenely under the stars.
And a few that didn’t quite fit in, either.
“Ellesea,” Y’cennia asked. “Are Horizon nobles known for keeping exotic pets?”
“Sometimes,” Ellesea answered. “Why?”
“It’s just…do dragons count?”
The group turned to face where she was pointing, and sure enough, across the street, an old butler was being dragged along by two small whelps. The pair of bright red hatchlings were maybe three feet long at best, with stubby little limbs and tiny wings that beat furiously to keep their chubby bodies hovering in the air. They had nubs for horns, long, narrow snouts with rows of tiny, sharp teeth, and rounded potbellies that bulged forward and weighed them down. Around their necks were heavy chokers encrusted with gems, attached to a solid steel chain gripped firmly in the old man’s hand.
The butler was struggling to keep up the pace as he was obviously being pulled along, but the whelps always made sure not to overwhelm the poor man. In fact, they seemed plenty content to wander wherever he led them, so long as they had room to flap about, the wonder in their eyes gleaming as clear as the first few stars sparkling in the sky.
Though…something was a bit peculiar.
As the group squinted, they could see one of the whelps was clutching a small bag tightly to its chest, while the other one held a half-eaten sandwich.
Skaaaaahhhh, the one with the bag opened its mouth and hissed at the one with the sandwich, but the other quickly moved its prize aside.
Skaaaaaahhh, it hissed back. Melia could hear…not so much words, but emotions from the noises. She knew exactly who those two were.
“Wait,” Jessica said, slowly turning to face Melia. “Are those sandwiches…?”
“Absolutely not our problem!” She beamed and hurried the group back home.