Beautiful table by ALAINE
Her tone was not patronizing, to her fortune. It was not difficult to let his own voice rise and form the words on top of his salmon tongue. But the question was whether or not he had a reason to provide information. She had invaded his wide, personal space and disturbed his feast. Had she been someone different and managed to annoy him, she wouldn’t have received anything at all, or perhaps just something she would never have wanted. Narcissists could be dangerous individuals, though Itachi was not very aggressive in general, unless he thought he had reason to be.
While his outer shell never seemed to change, the young female’s words puzzled him. He was familiar with the idea of preparing flesh in various ways, and Salsola’s regular feasts included many a splendid, exotic dish, but Itachi was more or less indifferent to the taste of his nutrition. There was one certainty though. The taste of fresh, vibrant scarlet was heavily favoured. His eyes glanced back at his abandoned meal, and he could sense the blood seep into moist earth. Narrow muzzle with the splash of tan moved horizontally; telling the girl that no, this one was not interested in learning the art of cooking.
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