"Coral! Wash the herbs! Don't bruise them, treat them like they are made of glass!" Ren commanded, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
"Yes, Mistress!" The Coral snake scrambled to the basin, scrubbing the strange leafy greens Ren had pulled from her inventory.
"Albino! The fire needs to be hotter! I want a rolling boil, not a lazy bubble! Fan it like your life depends on it!"
"On it, Mistress!" The Albino snake grabbed a large dried palm frond and flapped it frantically at the hearth.
Ren stood at the center of the chaos, wielding her high-carbon chef's knife like a conductor's baton. She was in the zone. The stainless steel pot sat on the iron grate over the fire, gleaming like a spaceship that had crash-landed in the Stone Age.
She turned to the stone pantry shelf. In this primitive world, there was no cured ham or sausages. There was only the "Catch of the Day."
