The Witch-sized meals provided by the giant cat kitchen came with plenty of mutton, rice, and hamburger patties slapped together by cat lamps with their paws. After the meal, there was also a great pot of warming soup.
While Jiang Han was eating, another camper van drove over. It carried a group of witches dressed very much like cowboys.
Taking the chance, Jiang Han observed the standard range of witch heights. This cowboy group had two around 1.8 meters tall and one a little over 1.5 meters. Witches were not a race incapable of producing short people, but short witches were relatively rare compared to the standard height.
As she observed them, the cowboy witches also gave Jiang Han's group strange looks. Three of the six of them were short—quite an unusual proportion.
And Jiang Han locked eyes with the short cowboy witch among them.
"..."
Being caught while observing someone else was a little awkward.
Fortunately, among witches, there was nothing a bottle of liquor could not solve.
The short cowboy witch pulled a black bottle from her dimensional bag.
"Friend, mind if we borrow your campfire? How about some rye whiskey together?"
Drinking with strangers? Jiang Han thought. Though this was the witches' main world and nothing dangerous was likely to happen, it still was not exactly a good choice. When two groups of witches met in the wild, they generally set up separate camps and campfires, exchanging liquor across a distance—distant, yet intimate. Sitting around the same fire instead felt more like a habit of witch folklorists.
Before she could decide whether to refuse, she felt someone tug at her dress.
Looking down, she first met Ms. Jiang Xuan's wide eyes, shining with delight.
Her mother said softly:
"Miss Han..."
She was being spoiled.
Jiang Han could