From Nuishe's journal:

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Crinipellis is a food snob if I ever saw one. He requires everything he eats to be gourmet, he'll only work with the choicest ingredients, he makes his Serthis assistants use proper hygiene when preparing food, and he prefers his kitchen to be spotless at all times. To his credit, he does well at maintaining three out of four of his requirements -- "spotless" is unattainable, since he lives in a fleshy nightmare cavern full of fungal spores.

He took it upon himself to perform the gargantuan task of feeding the entire lair, and did well for a while. Eventually, however, he was overwhelmed by the number of hungry mouths and baffled by ingredients he had no idea what to do with.

The Hollow's food supply floundered for a while, and we entered dire straits. The famine was so severe that it got to the point where the Blight itself stepped in, presumably to prevent its dragons from going rogue from hunger. I watched from my hollow as my clanmates, their eyes black and glossy, devoured the raw materials that Crinipellis wouldn't touch (some of which were still alive), often not bothering to bite their meals into multiple pieces first. Fortunately, our stores of food have stabilized since the Butcherbird volunteered her assistance.

Crinipellis was initially annoyed by his new competition, but now he has found that he likes it. Now, rather than being the one starving baker stuck feeding an entire lair of ungrateful dragons, he is at the top of a chain of command dedicated to producing quality food. The Three Witches raid surrounding areas for loot, Urnula brings the raw materials to the Butcherbird, she converts the raw materials into edible ingredients, and Hertella stores the surplus in the hoard until, finally, Crinipellis deigns to make another dish.

Being the main producer of "real" food in the lair, Crinipellis knows all of his clanmates' preferences. He makes sure to have some roasted dodo in stock for Cibdelia, preserve bucketfuls of sardines for Agrogaster, keep the meat raw ("ultra rare," he says) for Fistulina, boil some spinach for Pachytrype, save the best calamari for Cyathus, and, yes, hold onto a few rabbit haunches for yours truly.

---

He's spent the last three days working on something large. He's a high-maintenance chef for sure, but even so, I've never seen him so engrossed in a single dish before. He's all but ignoring his ordinary duties in favor of this one thing, whatever it is. Soleella has been handily picking up his slack, but he's still getting comments and complaints from some of the pickier eaters. He waved them away.

He never waves dragons away. He's too hungry for attention.

I asked him what he was making, but he became immediately defensive. I offered to help, since it is taking up so much of his time and some of his regulars are becoming restless, but he insisted that he has to complete this dish himself. He hasn't even let his assistants touch it.

Is there some ceremony coming up? I don't believe there is.

Perhaps it is for an anniversary of some sort. Maybe a hatchday. Cyathus's hatchday?

It's probably for Cyathus's hatchday.

---

He unveiled his creation this morning, and the effort it took to make it was apparent from the moment I laid eyes on it.

It is a cake, but not for Cyathus. It is for Urnula.

It boasts tiers upon pristine white tiers, with subtle but intricate decorations on each one. And in addition to the carefully laid textures and designs, Crinipellis has painstakingly piped an image of Urnula across the entire massive cake. His head looks down from the uppermost tier, and one can follow his body down and around each layer all the way to his tufted tail at the bottom.

Each tier is unique, but they all work together with a quiet harmony that is extremely pleasing to the eye. The darkness of Urnula's body in contrast with the white of the base icing gives it a sophistication that I didn't know cakes could have.

The look on Urnula's face was a sight to behold. The look on Crinipellis's face upon seeing his reaction was equally memorable.

He always has this air of parental pride when he unveils his newest dishes, like he’s watching his hatchling take flight for the first time. I’ve never seen him positively beam like this before.

You know, upon closer inspection, I don't think that white background is entirely white.

I don't think those subtle variations in texture are random either. Some of the white tiers sport patterns reminiscent of scales, and some seem to mimic fur. And, well, there's that bright blue eye hiding on the opposite side of the tier with Urnula's face on it.

Oh.

There's one more thing.

It's big enough to fit my entire wrist, but my eyes were so drawn to that gigantic cake that I didn't even notice it. It's been sitting politely in front of the cake on a small, prim cushion, seemingly waiting for someone to realize it's there.

A ring.

...By the Gladekeeper's roots, Magnaporthe was right.