The forest was silent again. The aftermath of battle settled like mist, curling between the trees. Seven wolves lay still, their furs untouched, preserved. Not a single drop of unnecessary blood had stained the earth. The only sound now was the faint rustle of wind weaving through the leaves overhead.
Rei stood over the last corpse, his eyes drifting from the pelt to Ailith, then back again. No rush. No urgency. Just quiet thought.
Ailith, brushing her hands down her cloak, broke the silence.
"So... Rei," she said, casually. "Do you know how to butcher?"
Rei turned his head, voice low and steady. "No. But we can't just carry dead monsters."
Ailith's crimson eyes flicked toward him. Her tail made a small arc behind her. "I know to some extent," she replied, brushing her bangs back with a clawed finger. "I'm not perfect at it, but I can manage."
Rei gave a small smile. It wasn't amusement—more like quiet approval.
"Well," he said, "I don't know what happened... but I'm trying to control my power."
Ailith blinked.
"What?"
Rei's gaze didn't waver, but his expression shifted back to neutral.
"Nothing."
A beat passed between them.
Ailith exhaled softly through her nose, then knelt beside one of the wolves. Her claws traced the edge of the ribcage as she prepared to begin. Rei stood with arms crossed, his eyes scanning the tree line.
Then he spoke again.
"And... do you know how to cook?"
Ailith didn't look up at first. "Of course I know," she answered flatly. Then she froze, frowning. "Don't tell me you want to eat these wolves."
Rei looked her straight in the eye.
"Wow," he said. "You got that right."
Ailith sighed and tilted her head back slightly, eyes half-lidded in disbelief. "I can cook," she muttered, "but we don't have ingredients."
Rei's shoulders lowered with a long exhale. "Can't we just burn it and eat? I'm hungry from morning. It's already almost afternoon."
Ailith shook her head with another sigh, softer this time.
"Well... we're a party. And I didn't help in the fight." She looked over at the wolf meat. "I'll cook."
---
It didn't take long to find a patch of clearing not far from the kill site—a dry, shaded spot nestled under old boughs, with flat stones and a layer of ash-dry leaves.
Rei gathered branches. He didn't speak as he built the fire—just worked methodically, striking flint until the spark caught. No flourish. Just purpose. Ailith, meanwhile, knelt beside the carcasses, slicing meat with controlled movements. She separated cuts cleanly: legs, flanks, ribs. Only what could be cooked quickly and without fuss.
The fire came alive.
Flickers of orange danced in the stillness as Rei arranged stones in a triangle and dropped a wide, flat slab of iron he'd taken from his gear. It had clearly been used before—charred edges, blackened center.
Ailith brought the meat, laid it over the heated metal. No oil. No seasoning. Just thick cuts of wolf over raw heat.
The air filled with the scent of burning fat and coarse fur singed at the edges. It wasn't pleasant. It wasn't mouthwatering. But it was food.
Rei crouched near the fire, elbows resting on his knees. His eyes didn't wander. They stayed on the meat, watching it char, listening to the hiss of moisture escaping muscle.
Ailith flipped the slabs with her blade. "You know," she said without looking at him, "this isn't going to taste good."
"I'll eat anything," Rei replied.
"I believe you," she said under her breath. "Still... wolves?"
"Meat is meat," he said. "We killed it. Might as well use it."
The fire cracked softly. Smoke curled upward, twisting into the canopy. Ailith handed him a cut—scorched on the outside, barely cooked inside. Rei bit in without waiting. He chewed slowly. Swallowed.
Ailith raised a brow. "Could be worse?"
Rei nodded. "Could be worse."
She took a bite too. It was tough. Wild. No spice. Just the taste of something earned.