Mokko arrived not long after, carrying a thermos of morning broth in one hand and Lucy—bright and well-rested—in her orb at his side. He took in the near-empty basket and the scattering of leaf wraps around Marron's cart.
"You actually did it," he said, visibly pleased.
"I did," Marron replied, half-smiling. "Portable food, just like you wanted."
"Trust snacks, don't forget." He sipped his broth, nodding toward the small crowd dispersing with full stomachs. "You'll be a legend by sundown."
Marron rolled her eyes, but her heart beat lighter.
Their laughter softened into the sound of cooking oil popping across the square. The scent of sweet pancakes and grilled root blended with the smoke curling from nearby stalls. Vendors called to one another, bartering spices and broth, knives and firewood.
Gradually, morning turned into afternoon, and the lunch rush arrived.
At noontime, her first customer was a young foxkin, barely out of childhood. She padded up to the cart and pointed at a rice ball.
She picked it up carefully, sniffed the leaf, then turned it in her hands like it was something fragile. When she finally took a bite, she froze mid-chew.
"Why does this taste like…"
She trailed off, smiled, and finished her food.
The foxkin couldn't explain it.
A black bear with a crescent moon on its forehead bought one. After the first bite, he went still in a way that made Marron hold her breath.
He mumbled, "Cedar… rain… the sound of fishing line… my father's boots in the riverbank mud…"
Marron didn't interrupt or ask for more details.
She just smiled and handed him a napkin.
The market buzzed around her. Not loud. Just… content. The kind of quiet that came with full bellies and something worth remembering.
Then—she felt it again.
It wasn't a threatening stare, but someone curious. Like someone had picked up a familiar scent and wanted to follow it.
Marron's eyes drifted to the trees beyond the square, and though she saw nothing, Lucy pulsed a soft lavender-gold in her orb. It wasn't in fear or warning, just awareness.
A jackalkin boy stepped up to her stand, shifting nervously on his feet. He placed a smooth river stone on the counter—carved with a crest that reminded Marron of twisting vines and a serpent's tongue.
"I was told to bring this," he said. "And to ask for one of the triangle ones."
Marron handed him a rice ball without question. "Is it for you?"
He shook his head. "A friend asked me to. She's snakekin. Doesn't come into the market."
Marron nodded. "Tell her I'll have more tomorrow."
The boy brightened and tucked the onigiri carefully into a leaf-wrap pouch.
As he disappeared into the crowd, Marron felt it—behind the breeze. An emotional shimmer. A taste of longing caught in the air. The presence wasn't close, but it was paying attention.
Ding!
[Shadow Echo: Response Detected]
Emotional Signature Matched – Snakekin Origin Line
A Snakekin Forager has requested this flavor from afar.
[Updated Quest: "Teach Instead of Feed"]
A snakekin wishes to learn how to make something, instead of stealing it.
[Optional: Meet in neutral ground to share flavor story]
Location: Forest Border, marked by pine and fallen stone.
Marron stared at the message.
Then at the crowd, thinning now with the slow lean of the day toward late afternoon.
It wasn't just hunger. It was also loneliness.
Marron smiled, even as her heart sank. She understood what that was like.
She reached into her basket and wrapped a fresh rice ball. Brushed it with a little extra glaze. Nestled it in the softest leaf she had.
"I'll bring one to the border," she murmured.
Mokko raised an eyebrow. "Meeting someone?"
"Maybe." She tied the bundle shut. "Or maybe I'm just answering a question that's been waiting too long."
Lucy shimmered, shifting from gold to a soft dawn-pink.
And somewhere in the distance, beyond the reach of fire and market noise, the shadow paused. Instead of moving like a predator, it sniffed the air, as if it smelled the scent of home.
+
Marron packed the last rice ball with care and glanced toward the fading sun, brushing a bit of stray flour from her cheek. Her basket was almost empty now—just a few leaf-wrapped bundles nestled at the corner. She glanced toward Mokko and Lucy, who were both lounging near the edge of the vendor square.
"Once these are gone," she said, "can you two bring the cart back to our room?"
Mokko looked up. "You heading out again?"
"I'll be back before nightfall. I just… want to follow a trail while it's still warm."
He gave her a long look, then nodded. "Be careful."
Lucy floated up in her orb, blinking a few warm orange pulses.
"I'll be fine," Marron promised, shouldering her pack. "You've got the important job now—guard the cart, make trades, charm the locals."
Mokko grunted. "Trade's been easy. No coin here—just food for food. Got some decent oil and flour from the flatbread vendor, and those big purple root eggs from that kid with the painted claws."
Marron smiled. "Not bad."
She patted her bag, which now held a few key ingredients: thick-cut meat slices, fresh oil, fragrant flour, and those same strange but protein-rich eggs. One of the wolfkin had even gifted her a skein of water drawn from the mountain stream. It was crisp, nearly sweet on the tongue—unlike anything she'd ever tasted on Earth.
She tucked the last onigiri into a side pouch, checked the straps on her sandals, and walked toward the pine-draped edge of the marketplace.
The border between market and forest was unmarked, except for the faint shift in shadow. As she crossed under the trees, everything grew quieter. Cooler. The wind smelled like sap and soft earth.
Just past a thicket, she spotted someone waiting.
It was the same jackalkin boy from earlier. He stood next to a tall, bramble-coated pine, his posture stiff and nervous.
"You came," he said.
"I did," Marron replied. "Thanks for delivering that message earlier."
He looked relieved. "My friend…she's nearby. I told her you were kind. And not dangerous."
"That's a good start," Marron said, her voice soft.
He turned and led her down a narrow deer path, deeper into the woods. The pines gave way to thinner trees, their bark patterned with lichen and moss. Low stone markers lined the path like breadcrumbs.
Finally, they arrived at a glade lit by the low golden glow of the sinking sun. There, crouched near a flat boulder, was the snakekin.
She was smaller than Marron expected—slight, with long fingers, and pale-green scales that shimmered faintly in the light. Her eyes were huge, unblinking. She looked at Marron without fear, but with intense curiosity.
Marron offered a nod and held out the leaf-wrapped rice ball.
The snakekin sniffed it, then unwrapped it carefully and took a cautious bite.
Her eyes widened.
"I-I felt this," she whispered. "In the market. Calling me. Hunger and recognition both."
Marron knelt slowly. "I'm glad you liked it."
The jackalkin stood nearby, hands in his pockets. "She's never asked to learn something before," he murmured. "Only watched. And… taken."
The snakekin lowered her eyes. "We don't… hunt the way wolves do. The creatures near our dens—thick scale, thick fur—we can't pierce it. Our fangs were made for fruit and fish, but there's little left. The orchard keeps us fed."
"But you trade," Marron said. "With him. That's how the wolves got fruit. Learned to grow things."
The snakekin nodded. "Sometimes. Not always safely. But… if I could learn how to make food from meat—properly—maybe I could trade something of value. Instead of stealing."
A warm ache bloomed in Marron's chest.
The same ache she felt in Frostfall, when she first realized her food could carry meaning.
And just like that, she wanted—deeply wanted—to help this girl learn. Not to feed her. But to show her how to feed herself, and others. To shape the unfamiliar into comfort, and survival into trust.
The system responded, as if echoing her intention.
System Notification:
[Skill Branch Update: Field Cook - Instructor Tier Unlocked]
New Quest Unlocked: "First Fire, First Flavor"→ Instruct a non-human cook in basic meat preparation.
Rewards: +1 Recipe Slot, +1 Beastkin Reputation (Snakekin Line), Emotional Resonance Infusion (Passive)
Marron smiled gently. "Would you like to learn how to cook a dish like that one?"
The snakekin looked up. Her eyes shimmered.
"Yes. Please."
Marron set down her pack and pulled out the flour, oil, and eggs.
"Well then," she said, gesturing toward the flat boulder, "let's make something together."