Returning from Swan Lake, Rowan saw Owen busily cooking beast meat by the fire. He glanced at the basket beside him and saw a few white-shelled water beetles that were still alive, trying to use their useless pincers to untie the bindings and find a way to escape.
He stood up and walked over, lifting the white-shelled water beetles; they raised their pincers to threaten him: "Grill these too; they won't be fresh anymore if they die. This dish must be eaten hot to be delicious."
The white-shelled water beetles shrank into a ball when they sensed the killing intent, their pair of pincers waving wildly in vain, but they still couldn't pinch the person who wanted to eat them.
"Mm, let me build a small fire next to this one to grill them separately." Owen went to get more firewood and arranged it into a small pyramid shape.
Rowan naturally took over the job of cooking Owen's stew pot, pushing Owen aside: "You go grill the water beetles; that requires more skill."
