The kitchen was alive with noise and warmth, laughter bouncing off the walls as the smell of sizzling monster meat filled the air. Pots clattered, knives chopped, and spices sizzled in pans all under the command of one pink-haired general sporting far too sinful feminine curves.
"Careful with that knife!" Nyx decreed while flicking her wrist and exerted just enough force through her [Telekinesis] to pause the next knife cut. All this while, she was stirring a bubbling sauce without missing a beat. "We want strips of drake flank, not mincemeat."
"… I am doing strips! Stop spouting nonsense!" Luna protested, then found herself in a staredown with the Space Valkyrie.
Nyx pointed at the cutting board. Luna's eyes followed.
And what she saw were truly sad excuses for strips.
"For someone who fights with a sword, I wonder how you can be so bad at this."
