Lingonberry

The cookhouse was a bright beacon in the dark of pre-dawn. Though it was far too early to expect much of anything from the place, the beautiful sounds of sizzling meat and cooking eggs were already beginning to weave their way into the air. As one got closer to the cookhouse, of course, other, stranger smells announced themselves. Was early morning the best time to smell barbecue sauce? Or kimchi?

Presiding over the veritable console of skillets, Slurpee and his great uncle talked excitedly to one another and to their five junior chefs. Slurpee had three of his children on his back while the other two sat on various unopened sacks of grain and rice near the cooking. "You gotta be adventurous," Slurpee was saying as he gently tipped cayenne powder into the skillet he was supervising, "take risks!"

One of the hatchlings sitting on a bag of brown rice trotted close to a steaming pot, a shaker in her mouth. Slurpee inspected it and grinned. "That's my girl, it absolutely needs some basil in there!" He praised, carefully keeping her from tumbling into the pot herself as she liberally added the dried herb. Two of the boys on Slurpee's back leaped onto the counter and trotted over to inspect what the other snapper was cooking.

"They're naturals," SuperMeltyCheese, Slurpee's great uncle bellowed excitedly. "Look at this!" The hatchlings had dragged a bag of pasta shells toward SMC's pot, eyes wide and delighted. "Let's see if we can deep fry these and add some qiriq bacon...." He trailed off, lost in thought at the prospects available now. Slurpee beamed with pride, looking forward immensely to the expressions of wonder on the faces of the performers when they learned just who had prepared their breakfasts.