Vines flourish, wild grasses abound. Migratory birds take flight northward, red cardinals chirp joyfully courting. The spring deepens, the highlands of Tlaxcala are suffused with vitality. Birds and beasts frolic in the sparsely populated basin, merrily journeying westward, singing gleefully. Until they encounter sprawling camps, meet the patrolling Mexica scouts, and the hunting bone arrows strike with precision, releasing a deathly cry, becoming the Samurai's fragrant evening feast.
"Great! The meat is crisp and tender, neither greasy nor gamey. Finely aromatic, distinct in flavor, the freshness lingers, a true gourmet wild game!"
Smoke rises from the Tree Snake City's large camp, it is dinner time. Xiulote sits cross-legged in the main tent, savoring the carefully roasted goose prepared by the chefs. He extends his chopsticks, takes a piece of goose meat, places it in his mouth, and chews slowly, showing satisfaction on his face.
