Ssssshhhh…
Ah… seared meat and woodsmoke. The air was savory.
Arkai stood before the flames, a lord in his most elemental domain, meticulously brushing a glaze of honey and herbs onto a row of sizzling steaks.
He glanced at Oathran, who stood nearby observing the festivities. He had this serene and detached air on him, more so today.
"You haven't eaten yourself, Sir," Arkai noted, not looking up from his work. He used a broad spatula to slide a perfectly charred steak onto a wooden plate to distribute.
"It's quite alright. I'm not hungry," Oathran replied, his tone courteous but final. "Dragons do not need to eat with the same frequency as mortal beings."
Arkai paused, his brow furrowing slightly. "But you know that humans, and other beasts, must eat three times a day, yes?"
"I do," Oathran affirmed, some hints of pedagogical pride in his voice. "I also make a point of understanding nutritional balances. I ensure not to overfeed Cec—"
