The Festival Night

The festival was in full swing.

Night draped over the canyon, the stars like scattered embers above, while flames from the massive bonfire flickered against the sandstone walls. The air was thick with laughter, music, and the scent of roasted meats, the sounds of drums and flutes weaving a lively rhythm through the air.

It was all for me, of course.

A grand feast, an offering, a pitiful display of desperation disguised as honor.

I didn't care.

Not about the half-dressed dancers twirling around the fire, their furred bodies moving in fluid, hypnotic motions. Not about the elaborate performances, or the chants sung in old tongues, praising me as the Demi-God of Destruction.

No.

My focus was on something far more divine.

The food.