The kitchen was alive with the rhythmic sounds of chopping, stirring, and the occasional burst of laughter.
Jean moved with purpose, effortlessly gliding between the stove and countertop as she orchestrated the flow of dishes.
Elara, worked in silence, her knife slicing through vegetables with surgical precision. Cruzer, on the other hand, was more of a wildcard.
His dough-slinging skills had left a few splashes of flour on the counters, but his enthusiasm was infectious.
"Okay, okay," Cruzer said, tossing a ball of dough onto the counter and trying to flatten it with exaggerated effort. "I've got this. Hand pies aren't so hard, right?"
Jean raised an eyebrow, eyeing his clumsy motions. "If by 'got this,' you mean 'if you're trying to make a mess,' then sure."
Elara, with a rare smile playing at the corner of her lips, glanced over from her vegetable prep. "No pressure, Cruzer. Just the fate of the party resting on your pastry skills."
