The sun had climbed high into the sky, casting dappled light through the dense canopy of trees above. The air was thick with humidity, but inside our small cave, it was cool and surprisingly comfortable. The savory aroma of roasting meat filled the air, making my stomach rumble with anticipation.
Zaya was crouched near the entrance, tending to a small fire where a makeshift spit turned slowly. The smell was heavenly, and I found myself watching her with a smile on my face. She moved with a practiced grace, her hands deftly handling the food.
"That smells amazing," I said, unable to contain my excitement.
She looked up, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm glad you think so. I learned to cook from my grandmother. She always said a good meal can heal almost anything."
I chuckled, feeling a warm sense of camaraderie. "Well, she must have been an amazing cook, because this smells like heaven."
