The elderly chief worked tirelessly into the night, preparing a lavish feast for their honored guests. Despite the scarcity of food and the unforgiving winter that loomed just over the horizon, he gave freely, sparing no effort to showcase their gratitude. His gnarled hands moved with practiced precision as he ensured every dish was perfect.
Maveth only arrived at the feast much later, prompting Calion to remark, "Where'd you go? I know you're not fond of eating in front of others, but they worked hard for us. At least stick around, yeah?" Calion's voice carried a gentle reprimand, soft enough not to offend.
"Apologies. I discovered some of the brigands attempting to escape and took a little longer than expected to eliminate them," Maveth lied with his usual monotone voice. He spoke without a flicker of emotion, his face unreadable as ever.
