"I forgot to take a look at the Declining Forest..."
After they had talked about the God of Giants for a while, Derrick handed over a piece of food that had turned black and dry after roasting over the fire, looking like a burnt biscuit.
"Mr. Randolph, this is black bread. Roasting it makes it less bitter, though it gets a little dry."
"Thank you." Cyril took it with a smile, examined it, then brought it to his mouth and took a bite.
(⊙_⊙;)
It really wasn't bitter, but it was very dry, and very hard.
Only after biting down with considerable force did Cyril finally manage to bite a chunk out of the black bread. Feeling the crumbled bread in his mouth, he almost wondered whether he was eating a piece of baked-dry dirt.
It was hard at first, but after a few more chews, it broke into tiny grains of grit. Then his saliva soaked them into a slightly bitter, astringent paste with a faintly sweet aftertaste.
Derrick thoughtfully offered him his water flask.
"Would you like some water?"
"No need." Cyril shook his head.
After swallowing the black bread that had turned to paste in his mouth, he pulled a sheet of drawing paper from his pocket and gave it a gentle flick.
Coming back to his senses, Derrick looked at the cup filled with a bright red liquid that resembled blood, then hesitantly glanced at the Chief on the other side.
Although Mr. Fate had said it was red wine, he could smell a faint trace of blood in it.
It wasn't the filthy, foul-smelling blood of monsters. It was closer to the scent of a healthy human's blood.
Noticing Derrick's hesitant look, Cyril smiled and took a sip of the red wine in his cup,