Festive Feasting [Valhalla's Harvest Festival Feast!]

All that would arrive tonight had come, it seemed, and the woman smiled easily as she heard a yipping, laughing cry arise further into the Festival grounds; the Nomads announcing that the feast was ready. Tipping her muzzle to the sky, she howled, calling for the attention of those gathered in order to call out in a clear voice, “If you will all care to follow me, the feast is ready. We will also be providing strong spirits and drink for those who desire it. Those who do not wish to attend the meal, you are not expected to attend.”

She rose to her paws with an elegant wave of her tail and clink of silver and glitter of moonstones as she led the way through the grounds to a second bonfire, one allowed to smolder low with red coals and flickering tongues of fire. It was long, meant to light the area and provide warmth and the ability to cook the meat that sizzled and dripped fat into the fire below until the Nomads heaved to push the roasting venison off the flames. Now it was almost cool enough to eat.

There was a bounty of meats – raw and cooked – and even peaches, plums and other fruits that might be agreeable to some. There were eggs, fish, and of course drink. She took her own place, and a selection of various items, letting the guests do as they would, whether it be to eat and head off to bed, or mingle, or drink well into the night. Later, she would be calling out for fight entrants before bed.

The spirits and drink she abstained from, instead lapping from a low bowl of clear water gathered from the single stream that wound through the Dancefloor, refilled by one of the Nomads’ primate companions with a water bladder.

Though she ate among them, she didn’t speak until addressed, instead letting her eyes rove around the gathering, hoping fervently that it was a spread they liked.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think