FotN '21: Feast

A long table had been set out, food of all sorts spread to each and every corner, packed in a tight balancing act that would take the least amount of jostling to cause something to fall. Beloved strode near but politely out of the way, her plumes carefully swept behind her as she wondered where to start. Clover and the rest of his dragons wouldn’t be too far behind, and they would bring such a terrible ruckus in their wake. And that was just the party she was here with; there were others, as well. The pristine image of untouched food set out so nicely would be utterly ruined.

She stepped closer, long neck arcing over plate upon plate of fine food, and her stomach gave a low growl as the smell wafted over her. No one would surely notice if she took the opportunity to appreciate a spring roll, picking it delicately up in her beak and swallowing it down. No one would mind, of course, if she plucked a serving of seared salmon with one of her feet and began to tear it apart, savoring the flavor and the way it seemed to melt in her mouth. If she was already eyeing the desert table covered in fancy cakes and macaroons and brownies covered in elegant swirls of icing — why, it was just before it could be destroyed by the barbaric beasts who would probably be just as happy to eat something freshly caught in the wild and torn apart by vicious claws.

“Oi!” a voice pierced Beloved’s musings. One of the darling alchemists who had put all this together strode out, looking unfairly furious. “You’re not supposed to be eating yet!”

Rude. “I was admiring your craftsmanship,” she said sweetly, edging towards the macaroons with the last bite of salmon still fresh on her tongue. “It does deserve to be appreciated, you know.”

The cook turned on their heel, and Beloved settled in to enjoy the privileged position she’d been gifted when they suddenly reappeared holding a broom.

What a pity. Some people had no manners!