Smolder led the way through the city. “You seem to know where you’re going…” Sandra said.

Smolder twisted around, flapping in the air. “It’s true! I have been wanting to try this place for a while, Pella was talking about it.”

“About that…” Sandra cocked her head. “Why don’t you want to go eat from her?”

“Huh? Why?” Smolder peered at Sandra with naked confusion.

“I dunno.” Sandra gestured out to the city at large. “She might need the business, I guess?”

With a laugh, Smolder landed. “I don’t need to worry about her. She’s doin fine. And what do you think I ate every day when I worked there? Whatever we were making that day, no,” Smolder punched her hand. “She talked about the quality of food at this place and I am excited to have a day we neither have to go out and eat magic food nor work at her cart. Let’s do this.”

Sandra shook her head a little as they advanced. "If it's that good, are they going to be happy about demi--" Her words died in her mouth, seeing the face of where they were approaching.

Brightly lit, the music playing just as loudly with deep tribal thumps that most of those waiting in line to enter were bobbing with. The people who had tails more than not. Fur, scales, and feathers adorned them. They talked openly and with smiles.

It was a demi-human eatery, not a single human in sight. Just like that, Sandra was the odd one out. "Oh, wow…"

"Isn't it great!?" gushed Smolder, clapping her hands. "Smells as good as it sounds. C'mon!" She grabbed for Sandra to get a place in line, half-dragging the stunned little human girl.

While Smolder was blind to any issue, bobbing with the music and looking like she was already tasting the food to come, Sandra could see the others peering at her out of the corners of their eyes, glaring even.

One wolf-person that was just behind them, moving to take their place on the line, snarled at Sandra openly, teeth mildly exposed. "You get lost, human?"

"You got that wrong," laughed their felisurra partner. "You're supposed to tell them to get lost." He looked from his friend to Sandra. "He's like that. Still, go away. This isn't your place."

Sandra cringed back in fear, but Smolder stepped in between Sandra and her. “Hey, what’s the deal?”

The felisurra wrinkled his nose. “You brought this human here?”

“Yeah,” Smolder said, giving him the stinkeye. “You got a problem with that?”

“Yes,” he stood closer, much taller than the still somewhat short dragon. “This is our place, not hers. She can’t come waltzing in expecting it to be hers just because everywhere else is.”

"I can go," demurred Sandra, looking eager to avoid that particular conflict. "I wasn--"

"Nuh-uh," flatly denied Smolder. "I know you got a problem with humans, but this human's alright by me, and she's my partner." She thrust a thumb at her own chest. "So we're going to go in there and we're gonna enjoy some food, like anycreature else. Whattaya say to that?"

The two predators peered with Smolder, expressions caught between surprise and disgust. The wolf broke the pause first, "You're mating with a human? Did you whore yourself to her?"

Smolder's eyes widened. "You want a duel? Not my usual style, but that question deserves a duel." She patted one of her cooking knives. "I planned on letting someone else cook, but I think I could make something out of you."

Sandra squeaked, thrusting an arm out, switching which was guarding whom from whom. "No! No, that won't be needed. Let's just--"

The cat shoved Sandra aside. "We're talking. This ain't your place, bareskin."

"Yeah, shut the hell up," joined the wolf, eyes on Smolder.

The cat produced a pair of brass knuckles from apparently his sleeves and donned them. “A duel sounds just fine. I can kick you and your human friend out.”

Smolder drew her daggers, and leapt up at him.

His fists went up, clashing with her daggers, their metal preventing them from biting into his soft flesh. She reeled back to attack again--

“Hey, hey hey hey whadddya think you’re doin’?!” A voice rang out. A rather portly feathered demi came out, wearing an apron and holding a big wooden spoon. “Read the damn sign!” He smacked the sign, which said plainly. ‘No fighting.’ “Yer breakin the rules so get out!”

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“I was just tryin to show this bareskin--” The felisurra started, while at the same time Smolder was saying. “He started i--”

“I don’t care! You fight, you don’t get fed! GET OUT!” the avian man roared.

Smolder's shoulders sank in abject misery. "We'll be good, promise!" Her dagger thunking into the ground dangerously on either side of her adding an odd emphasis to her words.

The wolf threw an arm around Smolder, drawing her in closer as if they were the best of friends. "We were just playin' around, waiting for our turn. No more fightin'."

The avian glared at the lot of them with doubt in his gaze. "One more little peep and I'll ban you all. Don't think I won't!" He turned with flying feathers, storming right back into the restaurant. On the way he shoved the bouncer. "Do your job! They fight, they don't stand out here. They don't come in!"

"Yes, sir," mumbled the larger demi, bowing sheepishly at the overwhelming chef. With the avian gone, her cleared his throat. "You heard him! Keep in the line and shut up."

The wolf released Smolder, frowning. "We can settle this later, somewhere else."

A peace of sorts returned at least, with Sandra sliding in close to Smolder. "Is this what it's like?"

"Mm?" Smolder looked aside at her friend. "Is what like what?"

"What demis have to put up with." She shrugged softly. "It sucks."

"Oh, nah." She plucked up her knives and got them back on their loops before taking a step forward with the line. "They know if they attack you, they'll probably get in big trouble, but, even here, the opposite's not quite true. This is their place, but it's still your city."

"That didn't stop them from pushing me," Sandra whispered.

"If it helps." Smolder took Sandra's hand, stilling it. "Getting a chance to do that was probably nice at the time, and I bet he's wondering when you'll go to the guards, sweating it right now. Kinda part of why they're on edge. One little report from you could maybe get this place in trouble."

"I wouldn't do that!" She didn't dare leave the perceived safe bubble around Smolder. "Let's... just enjoy the food."

"And the music." Smolder swayed her arm, taking Sandra's hand with it, trying to get her moving to the beat. "It's not bad, right?"

The food, as it turned out, was quite good, even if Smolder took a few notes of spices to liven up her future cooking endeavors. "Who says you can't have fun and learn at the same time?"

"How did I never hear of this?" Sandra was sampling hers with appreciative noises. Her tension had faded once they were in a booth, able to partition off the rest of the room from her little safe place with a friend. "These aren't tastes you find anywhere."

Smolder waved a fork at Sandra. "You need to get out of your safe space more often then. You're an adventurer, a bold tower challenger! You should, at the least, be ready to raid the kitchens across the lands to see what's worth eating."

"If it isn't Pella's little pup." It was the round chef, moving up on their table with a sly grin. "Don't think I didn't recognize you. Only reason I took that excuse you threw out."

Smolder burst into laughter. "Hey, thanks. You know her? She'd been talking the world about your cooking."

He slapped her back. "And now you got to try it for yourself. Better than she said, right?"

"Totally. Oh." She gestured at Sandra. "This is Sandra. We're on the same adventur--"

"Yeah yeah, I know that." The bird waved it away, hand going behind his back and coming out with a platter. "Don't tell her I said it, but Pella gloats about you. You're making her real proud."

That got a new round of laughter out of Smolder, her eyes on the platter. "Aw, that's sweet. She's a great teacher. I was going to harass her for more tips, actually."

Down came the platter, nudging several other plates out of the way as it was lowered. "Do you understand the importance of accessories, little pup?"

"Hey, pal. Dragon? At least use proper insults." She stuck out her tongue a little, but her eyes were still on the platter, curiosity undiminished.

"You want me to go away, hatchling? Or you gonna shut up and let me show you something." When Smolder didn't fire a retort, the bird-man smiled confidently, raising the tray up, steam billowing out and carrying the scent with it. "Warriors worry for shields and swords. Spellcasters, like your human friend here, obsess over the pretty little balls on their equally fretted staves."

Sandra leaned forward, drawn by the reveal almost as well as Smolder. "Smells great."

"And it should." He raised a finger. "Because I added that little extra. You have your knives, hatchling, but you're missing your shield."

Smolder raised a hand. "Hold on a second. Are you--" Suddenly there was a mildly feathered hand over her snout.

"I am a chef, nothing more," insisted the bird man, drawing his hand back. "Really, adventuring is another world. The tower can rot for all I care. But, you, little hatchling, you want to go challenge it. You need a shield." He brought down a finger on the edge of the platter, tipping it dangerously. "Finish this. No drinks."

"No drinks? What is it, spicy?" She rolled her shoulders. "You know fire doesn't hurt me, right?"

"Spices bring heat that will set your cheeks on fire and melt your tongue without any warmth involved," assured the chef with the utmost of confidence. "But there is more to it. Eat, and take note. The entire thing was prepared at once, at the same temperature, from the same meat. It should all be just as good."

"Which is pretty good from over here," noted Sandra, a little out of the conversation. "Excuse me, you seem to know what you're talking about. Do you have any hints for--"

"Silly girl." He brought down a hand on Sandra's shoulder. "I am a chef. You're a spell throwing sort. My advice won't do much for you, unless you want to help your friend."

"I do!" Sandra sat up. "How can I help her?"

The avian glanced aside to where Smolder was starting to cut into the meat. "Take note of each bite, in your head, hatchling," he ordered firmly before looking back to Sandra. "You want to help? You're in her party, right?" When Sandra nodded, he leaned in. "Then here's a way you can help. Stop destroying her meat!" He bopped Sandra right on the head. "You can make her job easier."

Smolder made her culinary exploration, each bite seeming like an entirely different experience with different spices. Some of them were good in wildly different ways, some had her wanting to grab the water she wasn't allowed. Some had both properties.

Sandra was focused on the chef. "Show me how. We're a team. If I can help her, I want to."

"Good attitude. You're listening, exactly the sort of thing they say humans are terrible at. Now keep those ears open and I'll go over the basics." He began to explain how to tell if one was hurting the odds of useful meat resulting from any monster's demise, and how to skew the odds in her favor. "I'll be asking your friend if you're doing better or not, so don't waste my time."

It was an evening of learning and tastes.