I was holding an uncut slab of meat that was still damp with its natural fluid and shining with the light of the fire. In the middle of the tribe, carnage was everywhere—hands covered in grease, mouths torn open, and ears ringing with laughter. The whole vibe was wild, honestly, with their noise mixing right into the crackling fire, like some kind of feast soundtrack.
I faked it. Moved my jaw like I was chewing, but nah, just swallowing air and praying nobody noticed. That taste, though—ugh, it wouldn't leave me alone. Raw, bloody, like something straight out of the woods, no salt, no nothing. My stomach was flipping between gagging and growling. Hunger sucks, but gross is gross.
Then—
An idea struck me.
Why not?
I bit into the meat—hard—my teeth sinking into the charred flesh. But before it could touch my tongue, before the flavor could register, I sent it straight to the System Storage.
