Chimper #1502
Most believe nothing good grows in The Dragon Wastelands, only memories of battle and the bones of ancient beasts. But near the pass of jagged peaks, there is the scent of simmering broth. It comes from Fuutarou's small, covered stall. They inherited the pots, the apron, and the tightly-wound scroll containing their family's secret recipe. Much like Akurai was bound to their amulet, Fuutarou was bound to the broth—a sacred, delicious burden. They squint at every customer from under their crimson cap, convinced someone is trying to steal the secret to their impossibly rich stock. 'Just eat,' they'll grumble, wiping their hands. Yet, no one ever leaves hungry, and the suspicion melts away when they see an empty bowl and a satisfied sigh.
