フォロー
"Every day we hone our skill..." Kris sang as they chopped one vegetable after another into perfect little cubes.
"Every day another kill..." Those days were past; Kris had traded their sword for a chef's knife.
"Every day we eat our fill..." Kris was in charge of that, now, and they really didn't mind.
Kris kept singing and chopping, swishing their tail to the rhythm. They'd left the battlefield behind and gently introduced proper seasoning to the stew-pot.
One great battle had been lost; one greater battle had been thankfully won.
