"Slurp! Slurp! Hff, hff!..."
The aroma of meat porridge lingered along the riverbank. Chief Maha Aguda gripped the clay jar and poured it into his mouth in great gulps, barely chewing at all. The warriors of the Fish Skin Tribe all watched their chief's eating display and couldn't help swallowing. In barely a dozen breaths, Maha Aguda had emptied the whole jar of meat porridge. Then he let out a long breath of hot air, his face flushed, and raised the clay jar in one big hand, about to smash it down hard!
"Burp! What's this feeling? My tongue's hot, my whole body's hot, and I keep sweating... Ship-User tribe, you really did poison it!... Burp!..."
"Haaha!... But this little bit of poison is about the same as the mushrooms in the woods!... It doesn't feel bad at all. Instead, hot air is rushing all through me, loosening even my bones a little! Hah! Tasty! Comfortable! Fills the belly! Warm!... Haahaha!..."
Maha Aguda laughed loudly and spat out another breath of spicy heat. Then he looked at the clay jar in his hand, hesitated, and did not smash it, merely setting it down gently. His movement was forceful yet careful, like a reluctant bear setting down a beehive that had run out of honey, carrying a rather amusing sense of lifting something heavy as if it were light.
"Hey! Fish Skin chief, with that big, burly body of yours, do you want another jar of meat porridge? We still have plenty on our ship!... And your clansmen haven't eaten yet either! Friends of the Fish Skin Tribe, we can share together!"
"Haaha! This meat porridge isn't bad. I don't know what was added to it! After eating it, I'm not only warm, I've got a bit more strength too!..."
Maha