Draziel's POV
I stared down at the thick liquid and the thighs of a chicken soaked in it. I grumbled softly as my eyes picked on the little greenish and reddish materials swimming in the liquid.
I let my gaze drift beyond the bowls to her, seeing how her eyes, though divided between me and the two bowls of 'chicken soup,' as she called it, brightened, gleaming with excitement. Her throat bobbled gently as she salivated at the food. How do humans even find this appetizing?
Food was meant to be simple. You find a small animal, snap its neck, split it open with a knife, and there's food already before you. Sometimes, if you have time on your hands, you roast it on a fire.
This, before me, I took my eyes back to the ceramic bowls, staring at the array of things that made up the meal—it wasn't food but was a needless ceremony of varieties.
