Cookery Chaos [Closed: Micah, Yuru, Collin, Gao]

[El]

A reflexive scoff soon erupted into a guffaw as Gao watched the petty exchange of the two men opposite him. Contrary to the Hylian's reaction, the Lurelin-local didn't seem at all offended.

"Clearly you are a parent," He remarked in Collin's direction, his grin gleaming with amusement as he settled down - purposefully last - into a wide, cross-legged seat beside Micah. "Devious vegetable plots too! Blaaargh," A playful grimace twisted his face, "I don't miss those days: when I was just a wee lil' lad, picking away at my food for hidden 'icky green things' only to get a sandal to the back of the head."

"...Worked in the end though." Gao chuckled, lifting the menu as if reminded that, yes, yes he SHOULD order something more than just a meat and rice bowl. He gave the sheet just a cursory glance though, simply refreshing himself on its contents and the chef's special of the day.

"Pumpkins are certainly one of the tastier ones." The Sheikah continued, attention lingering on the meal Micah had pointed out. "...Well, if you class it as a veggie. But I suppose that's besides the point eh. I second what Yuru here said - just give it a go! We can get a whole spread of things to share between us two if you'd like, mate, so don't feel restricted to just one plate.

"AH- though speaking of: No." As firm and adamant as the rejection was, it was nonetheless paired with a lopsided smile. A smile directed towards the blonder Sheikah. There was an obvious discomfort there, in the warp of his warm features. "As much as I appreciate the offer to cover the bill, bud, I'll take care of Micah and I. Wouldn't sit right with me at all having a lad on his holiday pay for me in my own hometown and all that." The more he spoke on it, the deeper the furrow of his brow became. Eventually a full frown had pressed his weak smile into a tight line...

"...Plus I eat a ton." He chortled, after a long pause.

Dinraal's fire now that he had actually settled and the earlier tensions had begun melting off his shoulders proper, so too did he feel the sweat begin to drip. Gao tugged free the hem of his loose shirt, wiping down his face with a soft little grunt. It didn't help much. The sea breeze was giving some relief, but blocked as it was by the grimy fabric it could only do so much. Funny how the exertion never caught his attention when he was arse-deep in labour. I guess it was doing a good job of keeping my mind off things huh.

"On the topic of baking though-" Gao yanked off his shirt entirely with a big breath of relief. After a few dib-dabs down his upper back, he discarded it in the sand beside him and leaned back, taking a moment to bask in the sun and wind: warmth and cold taking turns to kiss the expansive artwork of monsterkin bodypaint that adorned him. Where it had smudged or bled with sweat it still stained him, bleaching the skin from many years of use. Scars too, countless and diverse riddled his bared torso. They marred the dark, decorated flesh with vast quantities of discolouration and rippling ridges: sharp cuts, curved serrated gashes, burns, stab punctures, claw scrapes, etc., but most numerous of all were the monster bites - of every variety and size. To a knowledgeable eye each scar seemed to hold a different memory, for none were aged the same - half of them were almost faded entirely.

Gao had forgotten they were there. "I hear some of the young'uns have been getting really adventurous lately. I have yet to try it myself but there's a-... dessert pizza now, or something? Sometimes with mighty banana, others with hearty durian." A thought halted him then and he squinted up at the broad expanse of the blue sky. "...I think I'd prefer pineapple though, y'know. I bet that'd pair really well with some salted meat...

"...I wonder if Chef would be up for that if I asked."

[LuckyBlackCat]

The other three had started talking family. Namely, Collin's family. Going by what Micah had seen from his travels so far, Hylians and Sheikah preferred to live in smaller households, with the parents taking on the vast majority of the childrearing. In Goron City, the children had primary caregivers, but most everyone played a role in their upbringing - although Micah had yet to officially call himself a father, needing to become someone a son could be proud of first, he knew what handfuls kids could be. Where did they even get all that energy from?

Collin, seemingly used to wacky antics for that reason judging by his sigh, reached over and pulled out the wooden sticks Yuru had used to fasten his hair into a bun. Even Micah, for all his inexperience with Hyrule's restaurants, could tell using the strange utensils that way had to be considered a no-no... but what was their intended use? He frowned at his own. Did people skewer chunks of food onto them? If so, why did everyone have two each, and why were they joined at the top? He tried pulling them apart as Yuru had done so effortlessly with his. The attempt, needless to say, was rather less elegant - with a loud crack, they snapped into several splinters all over the table. "Aw, goro..." It looked like he'd be better off sticking with the metal utensils.

Thankfully, Yuru remained friendly and polite, neither making a big deal of that little blunder nor of his limited food knowledge, instead offering some of whatever he ordered. "Thanks! That'd be great," Micah replied, sweeping the wood chunks off of the menu. "To tell the truth, there are many different rock based dishes... curried flint, pumice scratchings, lava soup to name a few... Although I'm up for trying new things!"

His eyes widened as Yuru mentioned baking experience. Bread - so simple in theory, so complex in practice. The last time he'd tried to bake, the loaf had somehow turned out black on the outside and almost raw on the inside. A stablehand had wondered aloud how that was even possible. Before Micah could voice the question that came to mind, Collin commented about... putting vegetables in things that weren't supposed to have them? It went without saying that didn't help Micah's confusion any, nor did Gao's response about picking out "icky green things".

"Hm? Do green plants not taste good?" His eyebrows drew together. "Did someone put them in as a prank or something?"

That was nothing compared to the bemusement when Gao revealed his copious scars, most of them arched, serrated ridges that looked as if teeth had left them. Micah quickly concealed his alarm. To him, battle scars were no unusual sight, as many a Goron warrior bore punctures and grooves in their rocky skin with pride, but it looked as if Gao had almost become someone's meal himself on multiple occasions.

Not that Gao seemed particularly bothered about them, turning the conversation back towards baking with talk of that "pizza" stuff that seemed to be a popular dish. "Oh! If baking's your field of expertise..." Micah looked over at Yuru. "Someone gave me a recipe for foe-cackia. Do you know how to make that, and if so, how easy is it?"

[Sav'saaba]

The land of Hyrule is composed of wildly differing but bustling ecosystems, providing a home to an array of species. Among them, some of the most widespread are surely the hominids and their subspecies. From the desert to the snowy peaks of the north, one is bound to eventually find a settlement of these interesting, generally intelligent life forms.
 
Here, we observe the chance congregation of some of these creatures as they prepare to feed. This group of adult bachelors, save for the oldest, is made up of physically impressive specimens, though bulk and brawn does not always mean being the winner of the evolutionary rat race that is siring offspring. In nature, cunning can outrank a formidable physique. The dynamic between these gathered males appears friendly, although one among them, seemingly badly suited to the sunny conditions of this habitat, engaged in a behaviour that the smaller, oldest of the group may have perceived as a challenge.
 
Perhaps, had the hybrid of two subspecies among the group not stepped in with a disarming and humorous comment, it might have meant the start of a simmering rivalry between the two males. It is not unheard of for the different hominids to breed among one another, but this particular product of such a union is quite the exceptional result, and testament to the power of hybrid vigour if the scars of severe, but old and healed injuries put on proud display are anything to go by. Scars of such severity are unlikely to be found marring the skin of the hardy but friendly Gorons, to which the last member of this fascinating group belongs. An extraordinary life-form that is capable of, in fact even prefers to, subsist on minerals or mineraloid matter. Science is still not entirely clear on the intricacies of their digestive system, but this particular one seems to be keen to partake in the to him unfamiliar diet of his companions, even if their customs prove equally strange to him.




Yuru leaned back on his hands, his hair now fanning down his shoulders, feeling unperturbed that his attempt of presenting somewhat civilised at the dinner table was being reprimanded by Collin.
Whatever, man, but don't you bitch about a hair in your soup later.
He thought the better of voicing that however, and instead just quirked a corner of his mouth at the Hylian, but then broke out in a chuckle kindled by Gao's infectious amusement.

When his fellow Sheikah declined his offer of paying for everyone's meal, Yuru shrugged.
"Well, your loss." he replied simply, and would not press the matter further.
A big appetite, eh. It wasn't as if he himself would normally survive on a nutritious diet of golden flowers and oxygen.

"Hm. Vegetables are overrated. We didn't get many of those where I grew up and I turned out fine." Yuru gruffed in response to the raging debate on icky green stuff, curling an arm and patting the delineated and bulging bicep with a hand, but then was upstaged by Gao merely doffing his shirt.

The Yiga could initially not suppress a visceral reaction to the scars. Ever since first taking a blade to hand as a youth, Yuru had garnered plenty of marks and mars, but they were far from as many or disfiguring as those that covered Gao's anatomy.
The fuck did this guy do for a living if he was in a more ragged state than someone who was regularly getting their ass handed to them by the hero of legend, the best swordsman there ever was, is, and would be?

"The hell's gotten into kids today?" he responded with mock indignation and looked at Collin as their local expert, before his attention was back on Gao, red gaze intense on the beastman, "Don't tell me you're going to be ordering an abomination like that. And if you get one with banana, I swear I'ma... -- you're not Yiga, are ya?" Yuru challenged teasingly, his eyes narrowing, and he tilted his head.
Accusing someone of something that applies to yourself to draw attention away from you was the oldest trick in the book.

Obviously Gao wasn't a member of the Yiga clan. A guy like that would be hard to forget, let alone overlook. Keeping the simpering whelps that largely made up the rank of footsoldier or the even lower-on-the-foodchain aspirants apart could prove tricky at times and an effort Blademaster Yuru could rarely be assed to make, but that did not apply here. A lot of the aforementioned whelps never made it through basic anymore and ran back home to mommy when it turned out to be a less glorious gig than was promised by the recruiters.

A Goron gourmet had not been on his bingo card today, but neither had his cover of being a  tourist almost getting blown by a horse been, and Yuru found it tremendously interesting to learn that there was more to Goron cuisine than just a side of limestone or a slate of basalt, but hold the olivine please, and voiced that intrigue aloud to his tablemates.

"Wouldn't call myself an expert, though. But my old man was." Is? Who the hell knew. Yuru sure didn't. The coot was in all likeliness still where he'd left him, on the literal other side of the world.
"I was supposed to follow in his footsteps. Sheikah tradition and all that crap.  But life took a different turn and the whole me-taking-over-the-family-business thing fell through," he confessed with a shrug to punctuate his indifference. An indifference that had been hard-won, true, but nowadays it was simply that, and no more or less.
Having decided on his order should someone of the staff come and take it, he put aside the menu.

"Focaccia?" Yuru stammered, after puzzling for a moment on what Micah had meant with foe-cackia. "Pretty much foolproof provided you use ample water. With how I learned to make it, you mainly need patience, and some place to rest the dough chilled for at least a day. Like the ice house of the Gerudo," he paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, "Others will tell you to always have the dough rise in a warm environment, because of the yeast, and while that is often true for other types of dough, it is not so for focaccia."
He prattled on a bit afterwards.

Ah, the complexities of bread.

[AmJanky]

"Clearly you are a parent."

Collin chuckled at the remark, it wasn't just his own girl that had made him a patient wall against shenanigans. And it wasn't the first time he'd heard about the impeccable aim some parents had with slippers. He had never found use for a slipper, heck, he'd likely get a stiletto heel twanging between his eyes if he'd try.


While Gao turned down the invitation to be wined and dined, he still ended up shirtless. When the man sitting across from him blotted the sweat from his body using said shirt he had just torn off, Collin got a good look at the patterns seemingly painted so often on the skin even the sun hadn't quite reached it and hadn't seen a chance to tan the hide of the Lurelin Sheikah. What had tanned his hide were copious amounts of teeth.
Amongst the paint that decorated him, in patterns that usually decorated monsters, were scars where the same monsters had marred him.

Often, by the looks of it.

Collin recognised the toothmarks, he'd seen them on stubborn men - and his sister's leg. Equally stubborn - not the leg, the sister.
She was henceforth still not entirely able to say 'you should see the other guy.', most notably because there had been nothing left of the other guy.

Amongst monster hunters the dips and dimples and discolorations were not something to be particularly proud of. They were a sign of potentially having put yourself and your squad in danger. It wasn't wise to act the hero and forget oneself when dealing with the Demon King's henchmen, there were situations better left a lost battle than a lost life. Besides, every bloodmoon the struggle would start all over again.

Whereas Collin long didn't hold onto the monster hunter ways any more, he couldn't help but raise a slight sniff at the sight. They felt out of place on the strongman, like he'd deliberately sought out the hellspawn to wrestle with. Even for a man that strong it was a silly thing to do, the smallest of blins could snap a guy in half.. or well, not this guy, evidently. Still, that was two or more scenarios he shouldn't have survived.


The sound of cracking wood brought Collin back from his lament as Micah dejectedly looked at the splintered chopsticks.

"Don't worry about that, it takes some practice." He offered his own pair of chopsticks that were already split by Yuru.

Listening to Micah talking about Goron cuisine made Collin favor stones over fruit on pizza, even though his insides most definitely would not.
It wasn't all too weird to burn Hylian cooking if all one knew was how to cook on an active volcano. As with using chopsticks, it was a practiced skill.

"Green plants do taste good. Don't go by these guys' opinions. Judging by their physique they subsist mostly on proteins." Though he knew Sundelion to be on the menu for Yuru. "Maybe they could build up more gains by switching to Goron cooking, hm?" He threw both of the big men a sweet grin.


When Yuru raised the question what the hell had gotten into kids these days, Collin couldn't help but raise the 'solution', "A severe lack of slippers, if I am to believe some."
"Also, what an accusation to make... over bananas?" As far as the banana obsession went one had to wonder if Yiga were attracted to the suffix Mighty, or - well - the shape... A mystery for sure. "Man's built like a Lynel - even with the lack of horse-" he paused briefly, only to squint at Gao and looked as if he was pondering something, "-legs, and you're going for Yiga?"


And as their conversation turned to bread, a server made her way to their table and stood proud rattling off her practiced, "Good day sirs, my name is Lani. I shall be your server for today, if there is anything you wish you need only call. Have you been able to make a choice from our menu? The chef recommends the Cheesy Meat Bowl today."

"I believe the point was to share some dishes, that guy says he eats a ton, our Goron friend would like to taste a lot and that guy," specifically pointing out Yuru, "needs to try the sunny pumpkin, would you happen to have those?" Collin took the opportunity that presented itself, perhaps not on a platter, but for sure with one in her hands.

"We do, fresh from Hateno!"

"Awesome. I'm personally put in the mood for something spicy... and a cocktail... as fruity as you can make it - add bananas - surprise me."


Ah, the complexities of people.

[El]

One tickled laugh was soon trumped by a mighty guffaw, the forever bemusing stereotype of Yiga and their fascination for bananas turning then to some of his monsterkin. "Lynel is actually exactly what some of my bodypaint is modelled after," Gao eagerly retorted, a dazzling vibrancy to his grin. He was about to yap on more - a LOT more - on this incredibly exciting subject, but a realisation suddenly dawned on him snapping shut his jaw.

Ah. The scars.

That'd explain the looks he'd felt earlier when admiring the sky. ...Though now he felt a bit silly, as he had assumed (very proudly) at the time that they were simply admiring his very hard-earned and hard-maintained physique. Heh. Gao hid his abashed blush with an awkward scratch of his opposite cheek: stretching a gruff, large hand over as much of his face as possible.

For better or worse none of his company had decided to pry though. Usually when Gao bared some skin an inquisition followed with varying flavours of concern, mockery or bewildered fascination. Such prying questions weren't always welcome, no, but now, instead, the Sheikah found himself a little at a loss without the opportunity to explain them. What exactly had the trio decided to assume about the display...? About HIM?

Or maybe they just don't give a single damn. How about that?

True. He had just let his ego run away with his own assumptions mere seconds earlier. Let's not do that again.

The conversation had already moved on anyway, the approach and departure of the waitress shifting the air both metaphorically and literally. Daddy Collin had promptly dealt with the potentially very complicated issue of food with smooth - and honestly admirable - brevity, only to top it all off with another banana-related quip. Gao chuckled again.

"Y'know what, that sounds bloody delicious. If I didn't have the appetite of a horse-" He paused to apologetically (jestfully) tip his head in the direction of their distant equine friend, "- no offence intended - I would've ordered that myself. Cocktails often sound tasty but they never make the damn things big enough to quench a proper thirst."

A ruminating sigh slipped from his lips then and he gazed off at the horizon - as if brooding over something deeply profound. His distant stare lingered. A warm breeze flitted through a few loose locks. And then, right on cue, a profound revelation of wisdom did indeed then appear to him, "...I guess they would sell pitchers too."

Speaking of good drinks though, the combined thoughts of both that and the ocean - with all its bayside caverns - reminded him of Yuru's earlier remark. The one about Gerudo ice. And whatever questionably intriguing memory that had resurfaced in the strappingly blonde Sheikah at its mention.

Eyes twinkling with an idea, Gao looked back to Micah and his second-attempt chopsticks with a bright grin, "Fancy making some of that focaccia?" he prodded, the escalating bubble of his anticipation tangible. "Later, I mean. And only if you feel up to it, obviously." He quickly added.

"Man I could KIL-...C-CLEaaaan a stable for a good piece of freshly baked bread, the smell of it is to DI-...divine. Divinely delicious." He cleared his throat to choke down the rougher side of him and added, with a deflated grumble, "I don't often get to eat it either." A sad and bitter truth. Even if he managed to get his grubby fingers on the right ingredients, managing to keep the dough safe long enough for it to rise was always an ordeal. Those monsterkin maws gobbled up anything that wasn't screwed down.

"Suitably chilly spots are a rarity around these parts..." Gao continued to ramble, brow pinching as he recollected his original train of thought, "-but I think I might know a place or two? Ever since the Upheaval a few new caves have opened up, which might do the job."

He paused then though, casting Yuru a concerned frown, "Unless you don't think that'll be cold enough?" He seriously inquired.

True, Gao might not exactly trust the guy - either of these guys - just yet, but surely it wouldn't hurt to ask for advice about bread methods. ...Right? They were affable enough in public at least. Collin's quick thinking in offering Micah the chopsticks had earned a warm smile of approval from Gao at the time, and Yuru had an open way with his words that let quick familiarity feel natural.

"Well, I guess if worse comes to worst," He glanced back to Micah, grin askew, "-maybe I'll settle for trying out some of your own Goron cuisine after all." The scholar laughed; he wasn't entirely joking.

[LuckyBlackCat]

Having trouble with those wooden sticks, apparently, wasn't all that uncommon - or so Collin reassured Micah. Did he speak the truth, or was he just being polite? "Uh, thanks," Micah replied with an uneasy smile as he accepted the unbroken chopsticks, holding them lightly between his thumb and forefinger as he listened to Yuru's response.

Even if the Sheikah didn't call himself an expert baker, he'd learned from one - and would have become one in different circumstances. With a slight frown, Micah considered asking what had happened to bring about such a change of plan, but Yuru's shrug indicated either it didn't bother him or he wished not to talk about it. Not one to pry too deeply, he kept silent, until the subject of bread brought an embarrassing blunder to light.

"Foh-catch-ah? That's how it's pronounced?" His chest shook with a nervous laugh, his gaze drifting down to the table, then towards each of the others as he braced himself for signs of concealed amusement on their faces, thankfully finding none. No matter how confusing he found the land's cuisine, though, he couldn't deny how much it intrigued him. Just as Yuru had lumped together all rock-based dishes, Micah had up until recently thought of bread as a singular food, unaware of the many different types and techniques.

Before anyone could comment, it was mercifully at that point that a server approached, a practiced smile on her face as she seemed to recite a script. The formality, far from the openness and spontaneity Micah was accustomed to back home, threw him for a moment, but he returned her friendliness with a stiff and lopsided attempt at a grin. So many unfamiliar dishes. So many choices. "I'm all for a sharing platter! Especially the one with the salted fortified pumpkin... if everyone else is ok with that?" Again, his beady eyes darted from person to person as he rubbed the back of his head. Salt and vegetables... would that be a happy medium between what he liked and what others liked?

Once the server had taken everyone's orders and bustled away, the conversation returned to focaccia, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up Gao's face as he suggested Micah try his hand at making it. For a split second, he hesitated - while the opportunity to learn new culinary skills was precisely what had brought him here, he hadn't expected a gathering in front of which to risk making a prize numpty of himself. "Ehh... Yep! I'd be up for that!" Micah's attention turned back towards Yuru. "As long as the connoisseur here wouldn't mind giving a little guidance." It'd be a whole other level of humiliating if he messed up something as supposedly foolproof as Yuru said, no matter how encouraging the three had proven so far.

Gao's expression soured as he lamented the rarity of such an opportunity. "Huh? Why don't you get to eat it?" Micah tilted his head. Unless he was mistaken, wasn't bread a staple in most areas? Did Gao spend much of his time in places where it wasn't readily available, living on what he could forage or hunt? All the more reason not to bungle the focaccia as much as he had its pronunciation. "In any case, I'll try my best with it!" The thought of a chilly spot almost made him shiver despite the tropical heat, yet braving it would be worthwhile for the sake of a learning curve.

[Sav'saaba]

Those hands were something. Yuru observed Micah holding the set of chopsticks Papa Collin had provided, taking stock of just how massive those knuckles were compared to his own, and the fingers with a circumference that could cage a grown man's head to squash it as easily as an overripe hydromelon.
A baker's wet dream, a pair of mitts like that, with kneading dough properly being as physically taxing as it often was. It was a stroke of luck that this particular Goron gave the impression to be as gentle as they came. 

The order of sunny pumpkin by Collin specifically for him set Yuru on edge; had the horse not gobbled the sundelions up quick enough for its owner to not catch on after all?
The Yiga would have to be more prudent in his wording, the remark he had made carelessly about the Gerudo ice house a clue to the true identity of the Sheikah with the typically Hebran pitch for the more perceptive individual. But one would be hard-pressed to detect that realisation in Yuru's still relaxed demeanor as he chuckled at Gao's attempts of quickly correcting himself to come off as less crass, or something.

The enthusiasm these two presented around the prospect of making bread was vaguely endearing.

"A cave might work just fine. We won't know until we give it the old scholarly try." Yuru answered Gao, and then turned towards Micah, tickled by being called a connoisseur. The first c-word he'd ever been called in a friendly manner!

"Don't worry, I'll hold your hand every step of the way. With both of mine if I have to," he assured the Goron with a grin.

They'd need to acquire the ingredients first though, and Gao's mention of not getting to eat bread very often possibly spelled trouble.
Did Lurelin not have ready access to flour?

That was not an issue new to Yuru. Nothing would grow on the slopes of Mount Drena, nothing suitable to grind up for flour at least, and his old man would regularly make the dangerous journey to where the Rito roosted and stock up on Tabantha wheat.
When Yuru had come of age, he had eagerly taken that particular part of the family business onto himself.

As lush as the jungles surrounding the seaside settlement were, it was not unthinkable that wheat was hard to cultivate in such a climate.
Yuru was not about to make his tablemates wise to the bunches of bananas that grew rampant all over Faron however, or the concept of banana bread.

He echoed Micah's question aimed at Gao.

"Wheat hard to come by for Lurelin natives then? I figured most anything would grow around here, lush as it is."

Just then, the server returned carrying their drinks, and set them out onto the table with practiced ease, though Yuru could not resist helping her out with the task.

"Oh look, it has a tiny umbrella," he said as he elbowed Collin in the ribs and motioned at the glass before the Hylian when everything was settled, and turned to the server and shot her his winning smile,

"Thank you, Lani. It looks great."

Girls like that were easy.

[AmJanky]

The big man looked rather dejected when no one made any further comment on his appearance. And swallowed any further words on monsters before the subject could really be breached. Something didn't add up about the man, imposing as he was and as miffed as he had been about Fox threatening to trample his town and its peace, as small as he made himself now that he was seen. If it were up to Collin the last word on it wasn't said just yet, but the conversation returned to bread. And as the baker has to do with dough, Collin had to give the subject time to rest.

It was strangely endearing to hear Gao clean up his act like his mother was at the table - Collin had zero idea of just how much Gao's act would have cleaned up if his mother really had been at the table - It was amazing how much a mother's frown could accomplish, Collin had only gathered first-hand experience with that power when the two most prevalent women in his life became mothers themselves. Had he known his own mother, he'd very likely have been clued in at a way earlier stage.

Out of the four of them the only one that would probably never truly understand how that worked was Micah, but then again there was very little Collin knew about Goron in general. The one thing that was common knowledge was to get away when one would try to hug you. For all the hardness of their exterior they always seemed to have a soft and jovial personality. It made the whole hugging thing just evil, cause one could get severely tempted.

"I am curious, Micah, what brings a Goron down from the mountain to learn baking? That seems like a giant undertaking if all you know are rocks and lava." Frankly he was getting more and more impressed with the Goron's quest for culinary knowledge.
"As far as I know the well in Kakariko gets used - it's kind of like a cave." What he didn't say was that the Sheikah didn't typically go for an icehouse, what he couldn't pass up was another jab at the suspicious Sheikah,  "If Yuru's as good as he makes himself sound, you'll learn in no time at all."

That hungry look the silvertongued sheikah gave Lani, who came back with drinks, wasn't food driven. It just solidified Yuru as that Sweet Little Unforgettable Thing, Collin would recognize that look anywhere. He'd be the last to admit that he hadn't played and flirted and charmed in his heyday - and to be honest he hadn't really thought about giving up that behaviour, but there were a mother's eyes watching him nowadays - his daughter's. Admittedly, those eyes could squint at him all day long, he'd still do exactly what he would have done if they weren't.

Aside from that there was no real visible reaction to ordering a sunny pumpkin dish, not even gratitude, proving the Sundelion as a secret.

An "Ooh giirrrl." that Ashley would be proud of exited Collin when he was given the cocktail. The exclamation was not the only thing that would excite his nephew, the cocktail was laden with garnishes; umbrella, straw, fruits, the whole shebang, it would quite frankly out-shine the fashionista.
"Lani, my darling, consider me well-surprised." He turned from the server to the adjacent Sheikah - perhaps he thought to give Yuru a taste of his own medicine, definitely very much in jest, but the look Collin gave him was hard to ignore, "You're free to admit you're jealous, I won't judge." He took one of the fruit-laden cocktail skewers out of the many garnishes on the drink and popped a Wildberry between his teeth before savouring the taste on his lips. "Have a skewer, I have plenty to share."

With all the talking of eating and still nothing but drinks on the table Collin was getting rather peckish and the bread was starting to sound more appetizing by the second - until Gao made it sound like there wouldn't be anything but a wheat-shortage. And just like that his attention turned from Yuru back to the table at large.

"If wheat's a problem, Hateno's not even too far away from here if you know how to travel. Though the route does travel right through a monster camp... and if I can avoid it, I'd rather not." That subject had rested long enough to get cooking.

[El]

Gao's abashed chuckle sent soft tremors through his glass, the tumbler of vibrant sunny yellow quivering as he raised it to his lips. "My apologies, lads, it seems I've led you all astray with a wee lil' misunderstandin'." One big, hearty gulp later and he scoffed at himself, grin slanted as he addressed the rest of the gathering.

"Aye, wheat is a bit of a pain to grow in these parts - the grain doesn't take well to our climate - but we're something of gourmands, and many of us like to trade. Or, well, more specifically sail." With a soft swish of his cocktail, he motioned towards the glittering waters that crested the nearby shores. Something softened in his eyes as he did so - nostalgic affection. "There's no 'wheat shortage' so to speak. We'll find some enough for a loaf of bread at the very least."

Turning to Micah, he decided to elaborate a little more to ease the warm soul's confusion - and stress. "I too travel a lot, and securing the ingredients to make my own bread - let alone indulge the time and care to do it any justice - falls tragically low on my usual priority list. My diet is largely that of roasted meat from a latest hunt, along with whatever else I managed to forage that day.

"But not to worry, mate," He slapped a hand - HARD - against the Goron's sharp, craggle-encrusted shoulder. "Just have fun with the bake, yeah? The heart you put into it is more than enough for me." The hand lingered, rough and calloused fingers folding over the coarse curves in one last assuring squeeze. (Though admittedly what often looked like a bear's paw was rendered rather average in comparison to Micah's frame.)

And the cocktail Gao then continued to guzzle down? There was a whole pitcher of it! Which was for the best, as the Lurelin-Sheikah was already reaching for a refill. (Almost as if a certain waitress with a lingering gaze had predicted not only his taste... but his habits too.) 

Sickly sweet with banana nectar, sharpened with pineapple, then mellowed out with coconut milk to become a rich but vibrant sunny yellow: a tropical favourite. It was sadly missing all the glitzy bells and whistles of Collin's drink, but the man himself was keen to share its enjoyment by spreading the flair - much to Gao's obvious amusement. His grin was wide enough to eclipse much of his face: dimples deep and eyes crinkled. He appreciated a man who didn't let outdated stereotypes of 'masculinity' hinder their enjoyment of life.

...Even if in this case Collin was clearly just trying to get under Yuru's skin - ha! What was it about this duo anyway? As entertaining as the pair had proven to be, there was definitely something more going on here under all the witty one-liners and parrying blows of swift quips.

...But right now they were not a threat.

They were discussing Micah's passions and dreams.

"Right, tell us more, Micah!" Gao nudged - both figuratively and literally. "And have a sip of some of this stuff while you're at it." Not that he was offering much of a choice, considering he was already pouring the Goron a generous, wooden tankard of the tropical cocktail. "I know I already pried into your story back in Hateno, but we got so quickly lost in our recipes I bet I was a bit of a inattentive twat in hindsight, regarding the details of how it all truly came to be."

[LuckyBlackCat]

Micah returned Yuru's grin, his lips twitching with nervous laughter. "Thanks. And we can't know till we try." For all the encouragement, he couldn't help but notice the way Yuru observed his hands. He studied the utensils, tiny and fragile as twigs in his grip. Was he holding them wrong? Was he in danger of breaking this set just as badly as the last? Shoulders hunching inwards, he set the chopsticks down for the time being.

His curiosity about baking drew the attention of Collin, who inquired as to such. Thinking about it, Micah supposed it must seem strange, bread not being something particularly appetising to him or any of his brethren, yet something that piqued his interest. Why did so many cultures consider it such a staple? Why were different types popular in different provinces? Was wheat really that rare, and if so, could bread be made from other grains? "Well, being a chef has always been a dream of mine," he explained. "And with more tourists visiting Goron City these days... Got to make sure to cater to everyone."

Gao, at least, put one of his worries at ease, in part anyway. Wheat wasn't all that scarce in Lurelin - as long as trade went well. As Gao gave him a reassuring slap on the shoulder, his hand practically disappearing into the crags jutting from it, a strained, gravelly chuckle rumbled from Micah's throat. "If you have trouble growing wheat here... I, uh, wouldn't want to ruin and waste anything!"

Any failed dishes probably wouldn't go to waste, Gao having been kind enough to suffer through that oversalted mushroom skewer back at the Yuletide Festival, but still, the whole point of cooking for others was to give them something they could enjoy. Especially as these people knew their stuff when it came to good quality food.

Accepting the tankard filled with brilliant golden cocktail, Micah gave Gao a grateful smile before sampling it. A little sweet for his liking, but tangy flavours balanced out the sickliness, making it a taste he could possibly acquire. Apparently sweets, as with bread, were well-loved in many areas? Was this particularly true in the Faron region, with its wide range of tropical fruits?

He still had so much to learn.

"Nah, it's all good!" he replied as Gao echoed Collin's question in a rather more self-deprecating manner. "And, well..." He shifted in place, eyes darting around the group. Multiple people's attention always made him squirm. What was there to say? Surely everyone else here had a more interesting story than he did. "I grew up as something of a foodie. My father always brought back the finest quality rock roasts from the mines, showed me how to get the crust and temperature just right over lava, bring out the tang with a blend of salt and volcanic ash... So I've been cooking for a while. Mineral-based meals, that is." He took another swig from the tankard. "Other things are new."

He turned back to Gao. "Anyway, enough about me. What got you into wilderness survival?" Some Hylian hikers who sought out Eldin's sunshrooms mentioned foraging having become a more common way of life since the Calamity, but as far as he knew, didn't most people throughout Hyrule prefer the comfort of civilisation? "And you two..." His attention shifted to Collin and Yuru. "What do you do, if you don't mind my asking?"

Given the mention of Sheikah tradition, he couldn't help but wonder what had turned Yuru away from baking.

[Sav'saaba]

Yuru

From the looks of it, Collin did not need to be told to enjoy his drink, but Yuru would do so anyway.

"Naw, thanks, I'm good," the Yiga declined, eyeing the skewer his brother in charms waved at him. "Voltfruit, apple, and.. wildberry, eh? Too fruity for me," he professed, a toothy grin plastered over his face.

"Yanno, ain't surprised there's no durian. And I'm not talking about it stinkin' up the place..." he added.
Deeper into the jungles of Faron, you'd trip over the damn things, so it was a given that the locals would know that durian and alcohol did not play nice together.
He'd only found out himself after that stakeout nearby Harker Lake.

The lads had been bored witless, soaked to their underwear and covered in insect bites, and with morale at its nadir, Yuru had turned a blind eye to the canteen being passed around among the squad. Foot-soldier Fallan had been the one who had dared the others to partake in the foul-reeking fruit, and that's how Yuru had eventually learned of the toxic combination of spirits and durian.
And that digging in jungle soil was a bitch.

Yuru did not have a habit of injecting trivia into a conversation, but he had not taken Collin's remark as offhanded as he might have under different circumstances. Any opening for a distraction, he would take.

Gao reassured that getting the ingredients to bake focaccia wouldn't be a problem, and after listening to him talk about his usual routine and diet, Yuru decided the man had to be a monster hunter.
It would certainly explain the myriad scars. What, did he wrestle the fiends into submission? Was he an adherent of some new type of woo-woo 'humane' monster hunting?

As Micah reminisced on Goron cuisine, Yuru reflected on how even though Gorons differed vastly from the Sheikah and Hylians, some things remained the same; knowledge was passed down from one generation to the next.
That was how every Lurelinian knew not to have durian with your after-hours Noble Pursuit.
Through lived experience and advice, elders would protect the younger generation, and make sacrifices where needed to ensure a future for those who had come after. How ass-backwards his kin were, with their twisted mandates and retribution for perceived slights.

What did he do? Yuru sat back, the gentle sea breeze carressing his nape, not immediately answering Micah's question.

He had not chosen this life. Joining the ranks of the Yiga had been born of circumstance, but had soon after developed into a cause.

A transgression of an ancient edict had Yuru expelled from the mountain, the only life he had ever known, and shunned by the very people he had loved and cared about.
Back then, he had still been innocent. A kid of barely seventeen summers. Nothing to his name but the clothing on his back and the beast of burden that would carry him away from home after having been ordered to never return.

Through the Yiga clan, he at least stood a chance to aid in putting an end to those ills.

Not for himself, but for all those others who would come after. A chance to spare the many innocent lives from getting caught in the crossfire of destiny. Like his own had been. Like hers, and all the other cold darners' before her.

Only through pruning the last branch of the royal family tree was there a possibility of breaking the perpetual cycle of Calamity befalling Hyrule and its people. He'd cultivate the seed of reform and nurture its budding shoot with the accursed blue blood from the throat he aspired to open.

"I'm a gardener," he stated with a twinkle in his eyes, "It was my only option when they kicked me out of the village for being a dumb kid."

It was then that the waitress returned to their table, pushing a cart decked with heaping plates, and began to serve them out.

"Now that Micah and I spilled the beans, I'm mighty curious as well as to what you two do exactly," he said as he helped Lani make room on the table and then addressed Gao, "'t Way I see it, you don't get scars like that tripping over fishing nets."

[AmJanky]

A gardener?

From a baker to a gardener, how very 'salt of the earth' from you. A baker doesn't get kicked out of his whole community - heck, an insolent teen aged smith that sought to singlehandedly down a guardian didn't get kicked out of his community.
The clever bastard had just shone a whole other light on the sundelion, however, and perhaps - perhaps Collin had judged the blond Sheikah all wrong. So what if the sense of wrongness was all vibes, no proof. He'd still get a kick out of getting under the young man's skin, even if it proved to be just for sports at this point.

"What won't I do, though?" Leaving his eyes lingering on the blond before snapping them to the other side of the table, continuing with much less smarm. "I was surprised Gao here knew what name to put to me." Still, for that situation Collin's preferred name had been used, if it had been Riot from the onset the initial conversation might have gone very differently.

"Wouldn't surprise me in the least if Cloyne had something to do with that. He gets those rewards for his game from somewhere's what I'm saying." Collin used to visit Lurelin more often - they'd often set up camp at the beach after a particularly good hunt and shared some roasted porgy, making a bit of a vacation out of it.
That was until a Gleeok decided to make Hylia bridge its home and getting to Lurelin got a fair bit harder - even for the most seasoned hunters. One of the many reasons Lurelin had come to fall in pirate claws for a while, they couldn't be everywhere at once and neither could the hero. "I was a hunter- I've retired my sword for a while. I travel," He shrugged, "taking jobs where I can."


By then Lani had come in with reinforcements and a grand spread of dishes. While they were making place for everything, Collin excused himself to get some things settled, one of which was a hungry hippo. And while he retrieved some things from the saddle bags he'd left slung over a fence, his fingers brushed a pocketbook. And while he hadn't exactly looked for it, it did give him an idea.

After leaving Fox nibbling on some oats, there was one other thing he still wanted to do. He'd said nothing when the rest of the party sought to pay or was having none of it and wanted to pay instead. However, experience had taught Collin some things just needed to get settled before they could be an issue - and if issues ensued nonetheless then let him be the whole issue, he'd get that settled too.


What the rest at the table could see from a distance, as Lani had returned to her serving station, was Collin having a conversation with her and the exchanging of some pleasantries. They could see him leaving a satchel with her - incidentally filled with the previous day's spoils, no one had to know that they'd come from a Dondon's back-inside.

"Thank you dear," was what they could probably hear when Collin made his way back, "I think we'll skip the Durian for desert, though."

After all; ordering went fine and no one had taken offense there. Besides, what could possibly possess anyone from getting angry about footing the bill and putting any leftovers towards what damages a young horse on a rampage may have caused.


With a *fwap* the book Collin had pocketed firmly hit the back of the blond's head. "Your posture is terrible for someone who takes so much care of their diet. But I think you'll find something in here for your gardener's heart." He left the book in Yuru's hand while he sat back down. "Also, as a thank you for the shell and sorry for the horse."

Collin looked to Gao- hoping that the conversation they were having before was put on hold for the duration. Gao had looked towards the sea like many men would look at a Gerudo- though Collin was sure it wasn't a fisherman's tale they would get to hear. "Anyway, there's more cocktails on the way, where were we?"

[El]

Gao's expression softened with nostalgia as Micah recounted his own fond memories of his father, and the deep impression they'd made on his path in life. So they shared that too. It was no small wonder that he'd been drawn to Micah, given the size of his warm and earnest heart, but now it began to make even more sense. A quirk of smile - gentle but fragile - sat on the precipice of Gao's lips as he took a more lingering sip of his mocktail. They could've been the same.

"Know there's always a place here for you
- there always has been, always will be."

Gaze drifting, the Sheikah observed the bustling activity within the Crabby Cure with its many clinking plates and regular bouts of laughter. There were smiles on the kids' faces. A dog lapping up a bowl of fresh water. A daughter-in-law slicing up a steak for her ailing, elderly mother. The humid air was rich with every smell of home - ...of his Dad. Of their happy family and all the promise of a prosperous, comfortable future; phantoms of a young boy weaving through the tables and almost tripping over himself in excitement at his first customer's successful dish, (a simple grilled porgy on a bed of seaweed salad), and the look of pride in his parents' eyes - his Ol' Ma scolding him from behind the counter, his dad guffawing as he emerged from the kitchen to bring the forgotten sauce. In a different reality, the Crabby Cure would've been Gao's restaurant.

Without his knowledge, a sigh slipped free, the breath almost catching in his throat when unbidden his eyes met Lani's. She paused as she withdrew, having now laid out the delicious spread of food with Yuru's aid, and smiled at him. Well, 'smile' was a strong word. But whatever it was, Gao mirrored it. For only a fleeting moment, they exchanged something tender and sentimental. Unspoken.

"I got to thinking the other day, y'know.
About me and your Ol' Ma and how we met
an' all that. ...-HA! Don't pull that face! Sappy
shit aside I'm being serious here: I hope you
settle down soon, Son. Get yourself a wife or-...
well, a husband, if you're into that, that'll love
you once we're both gone."

"-'t Way I see it, you don't get scars like that tripping over fishing nets." Jabbed the other Sheikah, drawing Gao back into the present by way of a reflexive scoff. Not a caustic one, but a tickled one. His smile was wry. Fishing COULD be very dangerous, depending into which waters you waded and how cocky you got.

A gardener though...? Huh.

Gao didn't have the man and his impressive build pegged as a gardener, but then very few ever took him seriously when he admitted his own profession - so who was he to judge? Stereotypes rarely reflected the true complexities of most people. Besides, there was a spark to Yuru's red eyes as he responded that told Gao he was being sincere. ...In some way or another.

Thankfully Collin took up the baton to respond next, his own answer just as mired in dawdling memory and many shades of suggested complexity. Gao's wry smile grew a few inches at the jab of already knowing him by name, turning toothy and apologetic: he had no excuses for how gossipy Lurelin's natives were. But thankfully the Hylian seemed to hold no grudges and instead soon found another distraction elsewhere - his horse.

He was gentle with the creature - attentive. The steed too was evidently very comfortable with his companion, at peace with his environment and unbothered by Collin's nearby rummaging.

...Hmn.

Gao took another long, deep sip, observing the duo over the rim of his glass. No man who treated an animal that well and had managed to form such a close bond could be a rotten soul. Had he misjudged him? Was his caution unnecessary? ...Even still, something didn't quite sit right. There was still an uncomfortable tickle in the bottom of his stomach, a nagging thought at the back of his skull: had it truly been just a stroke of equine mischief earlier, the horse charging off after Yuru like that? The way Yuru and Collin interacted with each other felt at odds too, their bickering indicative of a far closer relationship that seemed to hold no true purchase and instead prickled with discomfort.

Eugh. This was giving him a headache. ...Or maybe he just hadn't hydrated enough.

Downing the rest of his drink, Gao took a moment to massage the bridge of his nose before promptly filling himself up a third glass. "I'm no fisherman, no." He finally confessed, with a small laugh. Collin seemed to be on his way back now and in the meantime the Sheikah began piling a towering portion of seafood paella and grilled meat into his own bowl: restoring his salt levels would do him some good too, he was sure. He must've sweated out a pint of it at least. "Though I'm certainly familiar with it. You can't really get away with growing up in a place like this without pulling your own weight on that front."

Gao intentionally took his time before elaborating any further, in truth debating if he really needed to be that honest about his profession. In a usual scenario he'd skirt around the facts and settle on something satisfyingly dull, vague in its specifics but not exactly a lie either.

But here...?

The man winced. He didn't think he could get away with bullshitting through this one, not on his own home turf amongst so many of his own people: they were essentially his family. GOSSIPY family. What he didn't confess himself he was sure they'd fill in for him, at some point or another. Besides... it felt disrespectful not to be upfront about it. Not to his current company exactly, but in regards to everything Lurelin itself had gone through and the history they shared.

He needed to take responsibility. Always. It was the least he could do.

"I'm a scholar." Gao finally sighed, licking his lips when he felt his jaw stiffen and a knot form in his throat. What had been the start of taking a heaping spoonful of food, instead turned into an idling swirl that mixed and folded the contents of his bowl. After a few rounds of this he clicked his tongue and sat down the spoon entirely.

His appetite was gone.

"A zoologist: I study monsters." Chest swelling with a big breath, Gao leaned back on both hands and gazed up at the cloudless sky. Its peerless blue was almost blinding, a squint crinkling dimples at the corners of his glazed eyes. When it turned to slide instead towards the vast waters of Faron's Sea, something about the familiar hues and rolling tides began to ease his heart. "Y'know, I tried to teach a few of them how to bake once." He chuckled. "The first attempt ended up with everyone covered in flour and bruises, and a nasty cough that took us several days to recover from. The second..."

The tension to his expression melted, the shadows giving way to a grin glowing with fond adoration. Up until that point his expression had been tough to read. Not because Gao was intentionally hiding his feelings - on the contrary, he was perfectly useless at doing that - but rather because his emotions were as tangled as his thoughts. A jumbled, icky mess full of sharp edges and fragile shards of glass. He loved what he did - that was evident. But as his countless scars and the patchwork structures around him demonstrated, it wasn't an easy love to harbour - let alone nurture.

"The second time, one old fart of a stubborn 'blin didn't use enough flour and got himself completely stuck together." Gao continued, humour purring in his throat. "While he screamed and balked and eventually succumbed to rolling around in the grass, half-blind with dough he'd somehow smeared over his face in the process... my other students had taken an impatient bite of their own attempts." The Sheikah's brow puckered then, his grin slanted but still gleaming. "They hated it, unbaked as it was. Spat it right back out and refused to waste any more time on it."

Reaching for his drink, his nostalgic chuckle echoed against the glass. "I made the mistake of returning a month later with some Hateno rolls. Cheeky shits. They won't let me share a camp now unless I come bearing armfulls of the stuff.

"But-" A perk of one eyebrow, a glint of mischief to his crimson gaze. He swallowed hard, big and full, then licked his sharp teeth with arrogant bravado, cracking his jaw and laughing. There was something undeniably feral about him in that moment. Rugged and wild. A fierce mix of violence and humour ablaze in his eyes. ...But with all the warmth of an older brother - or father. The type who'd put their family in a headlock and sear their scalp with relentless noogies as a fitting punishment. "I don't let them have any without a thorough fight first."

[LuckyBlackCat]

Micah studied the skewer Collin presented to Yuru, committing the fruits to memory. Apples, he knew of, the hard red fruits growing all over Hyrule by the look of it, but the other two were ones he hadn't seen before. "So... not everyone likes fruit?" he asked, recalling how bakers' fruit cakes hadn't sold well at the Yuletide Festival for some reason. The taste and texture of the one he'd purchased had been pleasant enough, reminding him of rocks. "And what's a durian?" He considered asking why people ate it if it stank, but then again, the same could be said of sulfurous minerals. Some things tasted better than they smelled.

"A gardener?" Well, that explained the sunset-hued flowers the horse had pilfered. He refrained from further inquiring as to the path that had led Yuru there, which undoubtedly involved painful memories of something that possibly wasn't even his fault. "You must know a thing or two about culinary herbs."

He leaned in as Collin let on his profession - or rather, former profession as a monster hunter. For a moment, Micah wondered why Collin had quit, before remembering his mention of the kid. Had he opted to settle down and give the child a safer, more stable life? "Ehh, same, about the odd jobs," he replied. "When you travel, got to take what's available." Or set up stalls and pray not to annoy customers too much.

On the subject of sales, the sheer amount and variety of food the waitress served up was bound to satisfy anyone, several appetising smells wafting on the briny breeze. "Oh thanks! It all looks amazing!" Micah commented, beady eyes widening, as Collin left to keep his hungry horse occupied. Gripping the chopsticks once more, he jabbed at the chunky dish she'd placed before him, the salted pumpkin. It took a few attempts to grab the pieces, much softer than he'd expected for something associated with toughness, although skewering them proved effective. He took a mouthful and chewed - again, sweeter than he was used to, but the salt made up for that.

Even after Collin returned and gave Yuru a friendly ribbing, silence reigned as Gao pondered his answer, reluctant to divulge information about himself as always. Finally, he spoke up - he was a scholar. A scholar of monsters, to be precise. Who managed to... actually get along with them, via baking lessons? The genuine warmth in his voice, the twinkle in his eyes that could only come with fond memories, proved he wasn't lying.

Micah gave a rumbling chuckle at his infectious humour. "It's possible to... make peace with monsters using food?" Truth be told, for all his aversion to violence, he understood why hunters did what they did. Even with Eldin's searing temperatures having cooled since Vah Rudania's defeat, travellers still arrived and left wary of Bokoblins, Moblins, and other fiends who set up camp in the area. Yet no matter how many they slew, the Demon King's minions returned whenever the moon shone red, their fervour invigorated, and the cycle of bloodshed continued. Was there truly a better way to calm the conflict?

Gazes prickled at him. He looked over to see nearby villagers glaring at him and Gao, lips pulled taut, their grimaces hinting at something raw and heavy weighing on them, before they turned back to their meals. He winced - had he touched upon some kind of history?

[Sav'saaba]

Fruit would be something a culinary-inclined Goron would be curious about, for Eldin wasn't a region that teemed with greenery.

"Naw, not everyone likes all types of fruit," Yuru had answered Micah's question all while expertly feigning ignorance to Collin's double-entendre. This guy.

"Take bananas, for example. Make me want to hurl personally, but some would murder for 'em." Yuru knew that to not be a lie, and pulled a face to convey his disgust.

"Durians are these big, spiky fruits that Faron's jungles are lousy with and they smell like something up and died, but if you crack one open you can get to the pulp inside and that stuff's surprisingly good."

In a way, a durian somewhat resembled  a rolled up Goron. If you squinted. But the Sheikah decided not to voice that observation, lest it could also unintentionally imply something about bad smells. Still posturing as being civil, here.

Instead Yuru listened to Collin's rundown of his day-to-day life, before the retired monster hunter excused himself to tend to his equine menace.
Yuru's attention shifted from Micah committing an absolute cultural faux-pas by skewering a chunk of salted pumpkin with a chopstick, to Gao nursing his drink, having grown quiet after he had confirmed he was not a fisherman. Distant. Lost?

While Yuru had already flaunted his devil-may-care attitude towards the customs of 'his' people, Micah had seemed more concerned about not behaving like a boor. He needed some gentle guidance then, the Yiga decided. Just as Yuru was about to demonstrate to Micah on how to properly handle the utensils and perhaps even have him follow along, something flat smacked him on the back of the head, and the chopsticks he had taken to hand moments before clattered onto the table.

Old man Collin rode again, scolding Yuru for his posture but at the same time extending an olive branch in the form of a... book?
Yuru sat there, a little less slumped than before, and read its cover.

Of Beasts and Blooms: a Compendium

The first part of that title would not be an outlier among the reading material often found on the various nightstands he'd encountered in his time. After opening the book's cover, the title page presented a handwritten message.

"To Collin. Could not have done it without you.

With love, Yanai."

A deeply personal item this tome seemed, presumably once gifted by someone to his tablemate, and Yuru wondered what the deal was. Was Collin really giving this away, as a present?

The table of contents outlined the subjects of the book, from the bright-crested duck to warm safflina.
Curiosity piqued, Yuru flipped to a random page, and was greeted by naturalistic, full-colour illustrations of the grassland fox, coupled with information on the animal.

No one here knew it, but were one to pull up the film roll of the device that sat sequestered in his pocket, one would find a vast collection of snapshots of birds and other wildlife. Even at the best of times, lying hours or even days in wait to ambush the Hero of Hyrule and his ward at some Goddessforsaken road or patch of wasteland was unfathomably tedious. This book was as if tailored to his second favorite pastime!

Gao had finally found his voice again, and Yuru listened in while proceeding to flip through the pages. At the mention of being totally covered in flour, a soft smile formed on his lips. That had been Yuru's natural state, once upon a time. Near the end of the volume, in the section on botany, there was a spread of illustrations of the ripening stages of the wildberry.

It was there that Yuru paused, Of Beasts and Blooms lowering slowly onto his lap.

"And stop calling me that." he gruffed, his fingers working carefully to separate the calyx from the brush without bruising the fruit. The old man needed this basket filled for a batch of fresh wildberry turnovers this afternoon.

"But it sounds cute."

"It sounds dumb."

"D'ya reckon it to be true tho', that your lips can freeze together, or is it just another of her made-up stories?" she giggled.

"Dunno. I've never kissed anyone."

"Whaaat, Ruru has never kissed anyone?"

"Neither have you!"

"Well, duh."

A moment of poignant silence settled between the two, and Yuru immediately regretted the deflection, keeping his gaze  trained guiltily on his task. 

"Hey, did you know Niral Qeta is pretty sweet on you?"

"She can stay as sweet as she likes. She's weird," he shot her down. "Now quit your yappin' and help me pick these berries before the snows come in or scurry on home, you're distractin' me," he chided the girl across the brush from him, flicking an unripe berry at her to bounce off her crown and chuckled at the joyous squeal it elicited.

"But don't you like someone? I promise it'll be our secret!" the girl resumed to prod with renewed enthusiasm.

"I like lots of people." he replied with practiced, cool nonchalance.

"Come on..."

A berry was hurled back at him over the foliage, and he dodged to the right. Ha, miss. The cocky smirk was clear on his face as he shot her a taunting glance. She poked out her tongue at him.

"You know what I mean."

Yuru shrugged, purposefully not meeting her wide and questioning eyes now, and staunchly continued gathering berries. She looked extra pretty today, he had thought earlier, with her cheeks a little flushed from the cold and silvery hair done up like that, ornaments and all. But she wasn't really supposed to wear those when doing something as mundane as helping pick berries...

"Oooh, who is it?"

"You don't know her," he lied, a defiant set to his jaw now.

"Pff," she huffed a breath, "I know everyone and their gran in the village. And in the next one over! What's her name?"

"She's not from Hebra. Besides, 's none of yer business."

"Oh."

For some moments, they both were silent, the only sound the rustling of the brush as they foraged.

"Well, I like someone. He's the best." she resumed.

It gave him pause to hear her say that. A sudden heaviness he couldn't quite place soured the smile he was prone to bearing whenever he was around her. Another berry came free of its stem. That one he popped into his mouth, its tang as fine an excuse as any for that formed rictus.

"Yeah? Why's that?" he asked, despite himself.

"I like spending time with him, even when he teases me. Also, his eyes are pretty and I like his hair. Sometimes when the sunlight catches it, it's like it glows with its warmth."

"That's nice," Yuru heard himself mutter as he forced a smile, feeling awkward for being regaled with the qualities of his crush's crush. His shoulders sagged, just a little.

It was then that she rounded the thicket, moving closer to where he stood.

"Wait, I already got all the ripe ones over here," he informed her in a transparent attempt to change the subject and not have her waste her time, his hand motioning at where he had been working after tossing a handful of gathered wildberries into the basket.

"I think you missed a few, tho'." she petulantly declared as she sidled closer until their shoulders almost touched. He squinted at the thicket. The ones on the bottom, then? She knew as well as he did that you weren't supposed to pick those because of the foxes and wolves...

"You shouldn-"

"I like that he sometimes watches me when he thinks I don't notice," she interrupted his protest, not allowing him to launch another.

"I like that we're both left-handed. I almost never win from him at practice, but when I do he gets a little huffy and that's cute. And then I get to tease him for days that he lost to a girl."

He had stopped whatever he had been doing, and stared.

"He brings me treats, and when he does he's often still covered head to toe in flour. He says it's nicest when they're still a little warm from the oven, and he's right! I think the next thing he'll bring me might be something... mmm, I'm guessing something," she hummed, "...with wildberries!"

After a little while, or maybe a long while, he really didn't know, he had found his voice again. His chest felt full and strange and wonderful.

"Sounds like that guy is really into you." he said. Lamely. Extremely lamely.

"You think so, Ruru?"

"I know so."

The teenager stood there with scarecrow gawkiness.

It was she who took the initiative, who threw the ancient precepts to the wind when she took hold of his hand, her fingers wriggling and nestling perfectly into the gaps between his.

If this was so very, very wrong, then why did he feel so happy feeling the warmth of her hand in his? Seeing her beaming face smiling back at him when he squeezed her hand? It was the most he could give her without crossing another line.
Even if his face was burning up, Yuru wasn't planning to let go anytime soon, not even to loosen the shawl around his neck. He could still pick wildberries with the one hand, who cared!

It was funny how he had not thought of what he had left in Hebra in years, but with the mention of being covered in flour and the wildberry illustration... However rare, sometimes the stars did align.

The Yiga had no stomach for more distant memories of a boy and a girl who did not exist anymore.

"Those illustrations are stunning. Do you really want me to have this book?" he asked Collin, feeling incredulous as he snapped it closed and put it aside so as to keep it out of harm's way, were monster maniac and monster mauler about to duke it out over their antithetical lifestyles. Dinner and another show.

"Sounds like me 'n my siblings," he laughed at Gao's recollection of brawling with monsters over pastries, and started to load up a plate with things he did have a stomach for. He wasn't sure what to think of Gao's claims, but the guy seemed genuinely passionate, and passionately genuine. Passionately stupid perhaps, too.

Sudden as a thunderclap the atmosphere shifted and their surroundings fell silent, after Micah posed his question to Gao.