The Gilded Horns' kitchen is a whirlwind, as always. In under five minutes, our order lands—double the usual, meaning, six massive Filoan drumsticks for each of us! The pile of food overflows our table, forcing us to drag another one over to make a double to contain it all.
The drumsticks glisten under the lamplight, their charred, crispy skin crackling with heat, dripping with savory juices. Each one looks like it was carved from a god's banquet, thick and heavy and begging to be devoured. My mouth waters. My stomach roars. It's torture in the best way.
Eris lunges first, snatching one by the bone, her grin wide and wild with hunger. I grab mine too, then immediately yelp as the heat scorches my fingers.
"Ouch!" I fumble for a napkin, wrapping the bone like it's molten iron.
"Cheers!" Eris grins, raising her drumstick high like a champion's blade.
"CHEERS!" I echo, mirroring her energy.
Boop!
Our drumsticks clink together in a meaty toast of victory.
