Perfect Preparations

Venom took such great pride and joy in the bounties of Ashen, it came as no surprise to the navy and white brute that his lover wished to share the Empire's surpluses for the feasts. As she turned her sly smirk he'd become intimately familiar with over their time together, she explained her intentions, and Maverick gave a nod of understanding. "Sounds like a plan then," he responded, stepping up to the entrance of the cellars and pulling open the doors, revealing the crude staircases that stepped down into the dry and dark storage. Maverick led the way down into the larders, the scent of fresh and salted meats hitting his sharp sense of smell first, followed by the fragrances of fruits and other edibles the pack had gathered.

Reaching the bottom, the prince consort waited a moment for his vision to adjust to the low light filtering in from behind them before moving to peruse the shelves and hoards of provisions, preserved and fresh. His teal eyes moved over bushels of fruits, stacks of dried and cured meats and fishes, and bottles of alcohol—wine from the Hallows, the remaining sake from Venom's ex-husband, and the collection of stronger spirits he had begun to gather from human ruins during his adventures around Boreas and Auster. "We're definitely not lacking in any department. We can afford to be as generous as your heart desires." Mav turned to glance at Venom from over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping around the pantry. "We've got venison, beef, pheasant, chicken... There's fish of all kinds and fruits and veg to spare. Not to mention all our liquor." The dire brute rapped his claws across the many necks of the glass bottles to produce a melodic sound, then shot a sly grin of his own to her with a knowing expression. "Although I don't know if you'd rather keep those for our own amusement."

"Venom & Maverick"