Eric's praise seemed to invigorate Michael; the movements of processing the Jin Bird in his hands sped up considerably, his face filled with unconcealable joy.
This appearance was exactly like a large dog being praised and petted by its owner. Eric couldn't help but feel delighted.
The corn porridge simmering over low heat in the pottery pot was almost ready. It was just the right thickness, and the sweet aroma of corn was appetizing.
The Snow Wolves' bowls were all too large. Eric found a rock the size of a fist, painstakingly carved out a small bowl, and then ladled a bowl of porridge from the pottery pot.
Patients should drink thinner [porridge] as it's easier to digest. Eric deliberately waited for the porridge to settle and then ladled from the part with more water.
"Is this for the human?"
The bowl in the cub's hand was too small. Max frowned slightly; it seemed it was prepared for the person lying in the tent.
