Redtail Rise Peanut butter on Triscuits and I'm not even stoned

Some met her peculiar tastes with disgust, others intrigue. Luke clearly fell into the latter camp. She flashed him a smile, then thought on how best to explain this particular quirk. It was a bit harder to explain than, say, her preference to sleep beneath a blanket of toasty warm leaves. But there was a back-story, of course, so she would start from the beginning.

"We all start on mother's milk, which is warm, then move on up to regurgitated meat—also warm." Her dark nose wrinkled. "Then, of course, we graduate to fresh meat, which we sometimes eat before the prey's even dead. I know I'm strange in a lot of ways but I promise I was absolutely normal in these departments once, eating the same meat along with everyone else...

But then one day my brothers and I found a deer carcass in a stream. It had clearly died there. It was all bloated and smelly—not at all appetizing. But then Sobe dared me to eat one of its eyeballs," Smash continued. "You have to understand, I was the youngest and only girl in a litter of five, so I was always doing crazy stuff to prove I wasn't a wimpy wimpy wing wong. So I went for it, of course.

And to make a long story very short, it was the most divine thing I'd ever eaten. From that point onward, I slowly began losing my taste for warm meat. I started sneaking my shares away from the kill and soaking them until they were cold. It's not just a temperature thing, it's a texture thing too. It all gets sort of... firm. I know it sounds gross and weird but whatevs!" Smash finished with a shrug.

"What about you, Mr. Bluenose? Do you have any eccentricities—I mean, aside from the obvious?" she queried, chocolate head canting and ripe orange eyes pinning curiously to his unique face.