“Excellent choice, excellent choice. Now watch and learn from a pro.”
The girl balanced the silver plate on one hand as the other goes to her belt. A dagger is pulled into a grimy palm and then driven into the shell, digging out the grey snail that had been nesting within. She raises the poor invertebrate above her head with a flourish, tilting her head upwards and letting it slip off the blade-
-catching it with the plate just before it can fall into her open mouth.
The howling wind and the rain battering on the rocks above them didn’t seem to dampen Camicazi’s spirit at all.
“First, we need to cook them, boiling the shells in rainwater should work just fine. If you just so happen to have any butter on you, it’ll make winkles taste better. I think they’re still fine on their own though, as long as you shake out all the sand.” As anyone who ever met (or fought) the Bog-Burglar Heir would know, Camicazi was a very chatty girl. “I’ve heard some people say they’re no better than limpets - does your Tribe eat limpets? - but honestly, limpets taste like Gronckle boogers; I have no idea what those dullards are talking about.”
As she was talking, the girl would kick her foot out beyond the shelter of the rock outcropping, hooking her boot around the handle of a pot that had fallen onto the sand and pulling it to her. She would gently kick the pot upright before squatting down next to the older warrior.
“Back to boiling them, will your dragon help us out? Mine got her head wet, so she’s pretty much useless.”
The golden serpent coiling around Camicazi’s shoulders nipped at her Master’s ear with a huff, then wordlessly brought a talon down to swipe another winkle off the plate.