[b]Ember![/b]

A full piece of paper thwaps you right in the nose. 

Or does its level best to. You’re a mighty warrior of Ceron. You may yet catch it.

However this meeting comes about, you find in your hands a piece of paper, and on it, a note written in careful handwriting; how long those cakes should stay in the oven, the right sort of consistency to knead dough, and might he suggest lime as a fine finishing touch? He’s so, so glad that everybody wants to help make this a wonderful event for Vasilia. You all are doing so [i]good[/i]. Here, a list, of everyone’s names, and a baking achievement they should be proud of. However it turns out, he knows it’ll be lovely. He knows you all are fighting [i]so[/i] hard for your pack. Do your best to make this a [i]good[/i] finale.

Signed, Dolce. With a doodle of a sheep, offering you a heart in these trying times.

You look to the judges table. A Summerkind watches all of you, some ancestral memory of pies and home keeping her spellbound as she takes in your work. Iskarot might be asleep? Iskarot might be asleep. His hood is pulled up too high to tell, and it would be rude to ask. Dolce? Why, your [s]captive[/s] guest isn’t even looking at you. He’s hard at work, pen scribbling away. He passes his work to Vasilia, who reads it over with a relaxed, unreadable smile. Her only sign of approval is to give the next piece of paper a casual flick of the wrist, and it flies on an impossible dance of gravity to tuck itself behind a Pix’s ear. The next one will go to the Beri delegation. By the excited buzzing from the other groups, their notes are just as encouraging and useful.

But you know. Technically speaking. They don’t really need the help, do they? Perhaps there’s an expert tip or two that they might not have thought of, but all your opponents are comfortable, at ease in their element. The Ceronians are the only ones floundering. Distracted. Lost, and in sore need of guidance to make up the lost ground. You stand to gain much from this aid. Far more than anyone else. But if everyone is getting regular notes, then nobody can complain about unfair treatment. Especially when every note is vetted by the chief judge herself. The playing field is leveled, and no one notices how much ground the wolves are allowed to make up.

Then again, maybe a bake-off is more fun when nobody bombs. When nobody has to present their creation with their fists clenched behind their backs, see their creation through a haze of missed opportunities and shortcomings. The wolves, the foxes, the people of Beri, when was the last time any of them tried the other’s cuisine? This voyage has been long on everybody. A good meal, shared in good company, soothes many hurts.

The beaming sheep slides another note to Vasilia. He starts another before she even finishes reading.

Who can say which is the truth? All you have is a pretty little sheep so full of joy he must keep writing or else he’ll pop. And his beloved mistress basking in the glow of his heart.

Worry not, Ember. Gemini and Taurus will not be disappointed. The bake-off will be

[i]good.[/i]