Slugs Can Cook

The long shadows disappeared as night began to fall. Usually arid and dusty, the cooling breeze was welcome to the small group. As they sat around the campfire, they each took turns telling tales of wild creatures, sand storms, and the blazing suns against their skin between mouthfuls of wild meat, some kind of hard protein wafer, and plenty of Vasarian brandy.

Laughter and drunkenness filled in the gaps between the concert of insects and Tusken hunting parties.

I will say this much, that slug can cook, chuckled Renegade to himself. He was wary of the Ithorian at first, but it turned out all of her picking and muttering to herself actually produced a good dish.

Tasty food was rare on this rock, and even though he could skin a bantha ten ways, he couldn’t make it taste good even three different ways.

He glanced over and nodded towards her in appreciation.

Marigold caught the warrior’s brief nod. She pondered about him as he sat back, licking the fat from his fingers. He looked out of place from the rest of the crowd with his long hair and green shorts.

Everyone else was covered in clay and sweat from forming bricks for houses. They had made short work of the project, outfitting everyone who wanted a home with a simple house.

The warrior had shown up for dinner most every night, but was never to be found during the day time. On this night, he opened up his travel pack and began unloading hide after wooly hide. He amassed quite a pile in front of him before he finally looked around, his eyes landing on the camp’s armorsmith. He had been hunting every single day for enough hides to outfit the entire camp in armor!

The camp erupted in cheers! Good fortune had smiled upon the small town of Twin Suns.

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