Snippet #2483132

Amos looked to the smaller man-elf and chuckled a little to himself, which to the average person sounded like the bellow of a mighty beast defending its territory. "That's the thing I enjoy most about you creatures. No matter the situation, or where you might live, someone is always cooking something new and amazing and wondrous." The half-ogre smiled, the lion bearing his fangs, and stared up at the sky. "Ogre's have such simple diets. Raw roots dug up from the mud, over ripe fruit fallen from dying trees, and rotting carcass of a sick buck." The creature shuddered and a look of disgust played itself on his features. "I would die for a bowl of red curry and pork over jasmine rice and a cold glass of black tea." He licked his lips and blinked as his own stomach protested his hunger like the great rumblings of the ever turning earth. He rubbed the back of his head and chuckled once more. "I suppose I'm quite hungry myself. Let us make haste, lest we die of hunger this eve." he joked, smiling as his calloused feet trampled the earth beneath them.