That night, a certain troublesome little bear of a girl naturally went camping on the small island in the middle of Starfell Lake with her two useless new friends.
And what they ate was, of course, the "great white cranes" Annie had mentioned earlier—the ones baked in a mud oven with mud and lotus leaves.
Naturally, their real name wasn't "great white crane" or "immortal crane." They were just a flock of poor blue-feathered herons that lived around Starfell Lake.
In fact, they could be found all over Mondstadt, whether at Cider Lake, Starfell Lake, Springvale, Windwail Highland, Falcon Coast, or anywhere else with a large body of water.
But none of that mattered. What mattered was this:
Several of them had now become Annie's "lotus-leaf mud-baked original-flavor poultry"—steaming hot, tender, succulent, and practically melting in your mouth. The rich aroma of the meat burst across your tongue, full of the fresh, savory flavor of a rare bird. They tasted delicious without a single extra seasoning, and were so good you wanted to suck every last bone clean. Even the nearby Statue of The Seven behind the three of them couldn't help drooling at the sight!
"What are you looking at?"
(⊙o⊙*)
"Looking doesn't mean you get any!"
(???3?)
Annie, who was sitting cross-legged on a rock, had of course noticed the statue and the glistening "drool" hanging from the corner of its mouth. But she simply looked away, pretending not to see it. She had absolutely no intention of giving it a taste of the fragrant great white crane she was holding and gnawing on, baked to perfection in mud and lotus leaves.
She had only caught ten of them, after all. And although they looked big, once her little bear Tibbers had cleaned them, removed their heads and