Marron woke to the sll of warm porridge and berries drifting in from the cart. She blinked at the sunlight creeping through the shutters.
Wait. If soone else is cooking breakfast, I slept through the prep work!
It felt like soone had dumped a bucket of ice water at her.
Soone else is cooking? For once? It’s like when I still had Kai.
She missed her roommate. He was sincerely happy cooking dinner/lunch for her and himself. Kai was the type of cook who grabbed a recipe off the internet and worked with it. If he wasn’t there, Marron had to make sothing herself.
And when I was still working in sales, that barely happened.
She slid her feet into the soft sandals provided by the inn and went inside the kitchen.
Marron found Mokko, stood at the counter with a wooden spoon in one paw and so porridge stuck in his fur. Lucy then wobbled toward her, a ladle stored inside her watery form like a prize. With a triumphant bloop, she dropped it in front of Marron.
"For ?" Marron asked, smiling despite the fuzziness in her head. Lucy jiggled, which Marron interpreted as the sli equivalent of "yes!"
Mom always made breakfast, before I moved out. And then I lived with Kai for all seven years of being a sales executive.
He always made my dinner, and his lunch. But breakfast?
He works nights, so I just made extra for breakfast and left so for him.
It was give and take.
And now I can’t rember the last ti soone made breakfast for .
Even when she was sick, Marron always had a recipe up her sleeve. And she did her best to feed everybody (even if sotis, all she had energy for was cereal with milk.)
In Whisperwind, a bear and a sli had stepped into that space without asking for anything in return.
Maybe this is what it feels like to be... looked after.
Later, Marron stepped into the market square. The early bustle was already in full swing — hawkers calling out trades, children weaving between stalls, the scent of roasting roots in the air.
She spotted a small cluster of snakekin traders at the far edge, their scales catching the morning light. Lyra erged from the crowd, a coil of wild herbs looped over one shoulder.
"You’ve started a small ripple," Lyra said, tilting her head toward the snakekin. "The dumplings from the festival? They’ve made it back into the Cove’s gossip chain. So want to know what else you can make."
Marron’s brows lifted. "Sothing new with apples, then?"
Lyra grinned. "Sothing that makes them rember you."
Back at the cart, Marron rolled up her sleeves. She decided on sothing simple but morable — apple crumble. No delicate dough like the dumplings, no careful braiding like the pies she’d made back ho. Just fruit, spice, and a buttery topping.
She sliced ruby-red apples, the flesh glistening as the knife moved. Cinnamon and sugar followed, each grain dissolving into glossy syrup as she stirred. The sll rose up warm and sweet, curling in the air like a mory.
Without realizing it, she thought about the snakekin’s curiosity, about bridging distances between people who barely spoke to each other. That quiet intention seed to settle into the apples themselves, the way Whisperwind had begun teaching her — food could carry more than flavor.
Lucy wobbled onto the counter and began patting the oat-and-butter topping into place. Unfortunately, her "patting" was more enthusiastic in so spots than others, leaving lopsided mounds of crumble. Marron let it be. Imperfect shapes still baked perfectly fine.
When the crumble ca out of the oven, Mokko taste-tested first. His ears twitched. "Richer than the dumplings. Softer sweetness."
The system chid softly in Marron’s periphery.
[Cooking Skill 2]
[Would you like to upgrade and gain a Recipe Log for 100 gold?]
Marron had completely forgotten about that.
Well, it couldn’t hurt. I already have a notebook, but who knows? I might need it in the future.
"Okay," she said, and hit [yes].
[Upgrade Unlocked: System now logs recipes from Savoria and Earth.
Remaining gold: 20]
Gold didn’t an much for beastkin, so she didn’t have to worry about money just yet. They preferred to barter, and that was just fine with her.
High above the square, Lord Jackal leaned on the carved railing of the terrace. Beside him stood his son, Kael, arms folded loosely.
"She’s stirring conversation," the Lord murmured, eyes on Marron’s cart. "So are suspicious — they say humans always take more than they give. Others are convinced she’s different."
Kael’s gaze followed Marron handing a wrapped slice of crumble to a snakekin trader. "She works hard. Doesn’t hoard. And she listens. That matters here."
Lord Jackal’s tail flicked once. "Her efforts are bearing fruit." His tone made it clear the phrase wasn’t entirely taphorical.
By midafternoon, a tall snakekin rchant with scales like burnished copper approached Marron’s cart. He tasted a forkful of the crumble, the steam curling upward between them.
His forked tongue flicked to taste the air, as if he was contemplating his next words.
"This," he said slowly, "we would like for the journey ho."
Marron hesitated. "If I go to Snakewater Cove, I’ll need Lord Jackal’s permission. I won’t travel without it."
The rchant’s eyes narrowed, then softened.
"Few outsiders would bother with that. We will wait."
The audience chamber slled faintly of cedar and cool stone. Marron stood with a covered dish in her hands, steam curling from its edges.
Lord Jackal regarded her with his usual, unreadable expression. "An apple dish?"
"An apple crumble," she corrected gently. "And... a request. Snakekin traders have asked to visit their Cove. I wanted to ask your leave before agreeing."
He studied her for a long mont. "You’re learning our ways faster than I expected. I’ll admit — I have never held a high opinion of humans. Too many see themselves above us. But you..." His voice was asured. "...you seem to want to be of value."
Marron inclined her head. "I do."
"Then you may go. But remind them you are Whisperwind’s ally first." His gaze shifted, distant. "And... give my regards to the Snake Queen."
Sothing in his tone caught at Marron’s curiosity, but she didn’t press. She simply nodded, leaving with the feeling she’d just stepped into a thread of history much older than her arrival here.
But at the end of the day, it wasn’t her place to pry...just yet. So she smiled and said cheerfully,
"I will, Lord Jackal. Thank you."
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