inated the faces of the Silverfox Clan, their eyes glowing with a feral, hungry light.

and something else, something sweet and earthy they couldn't name. A few of the younger warriors were visibly drooling, swallowing ha

solitary lab work, judged the time was right. The tubers

ct her hands, she gripped the handle

rying the concentrated essence of the stew. The fragrance bomb hit the cr

amy, milky white. The chunks of meat were falling off the bone, and the tubers, once hard and p

oss the square. Even the Chieftain, a man of immense self-c

oped up a spoonful of the stew, thick with

"Devil's Root" held them paralyzed, a war between t

d held out the first bowl, carved from wood

on

reached in with his bare fingers, plucked out a stea

ed on his tongue, a perfect vehicle for the rich, savory flavor of the pork fat and the su

. He began to eat with a brutal, focused speed, grabbing chunks of meat and tuber

ked a stray drop of broth from the corner of his mou

fear broke. A few of the hungries

boy named Pip, no more than five or six years old. Starvation had made him bold. He didn't care about poi

of the stew into a bowl, the softest meat and most tender t

wd, Chelsea shrieked, "Y

ce into the bowl, eating like a starving a

ar. They scrambled forward, surrounding Abi

patiently began to serve every child, making sur

gravy. Some were so overwhelmed by the delicio

e in weeks, were not foaming at the mouth. They were chasing each other

proof was the final blow. The cur

for food, and then it was a flood. The entire

was about to t

ssure of a seventh-tier warrior. It slammed into the crowd like

red, his voice cr

y looked at Bronson, then at each other, and meekly, silently, began to form a long, ord

nce, and began to serve the tribe that had, only that morning, wa