"Are they done yet? Give me one, I only got to taste a small piece earlier." Michael ignored Max’s not-so-happy expression, his eyes glued to the pastries that were gradually turning golden brown, his stomach rumbling urgently.
"Me too, give me one too!" Several other Snow Wolf warriors also clamored in agreement. By now, no one was in the mood to compare whose skills were more skillful; everyone surrounded the fire pit like a pack of hungry wolves.
Luckily, one batch made quite a lot of pastries. Max frowned as he watched the group, each person grabbing two, blowing on them while chewing greedily, a truly unsightly sight. Suddenly, a warmth spread in his palm; it turned out he had been handed two piping hot pastries.
Eric held out the pastries to him, his eyes sparkling brightly. "Max hasn’t eaten, right? These are for you."
He then handed two more to the large Ox-Head tribe young man standing nearby. This man was too embarrassed to hold out his hand, but his throat was already gulping audibly.
"Ahem, ahem." Seeing that the young men were about to divide up the entire batch of pastries, Thomas couldn’t hold back and had to clear his throat twice. After attracting everyone’s gaze, he quickly carried the entire earthenware tray of pastries over to his spot.
Although the first batch of pastries was no longer scalding hot, the flavor was still much better than the sample piece from before. Thomas and Joseph, using their seniority, quickly took several.
Seeing this, the others no longer held back, and soon they had divided up all the hot pastries.
The outer crust was much crispier than the sample piece, an indescribable deliciousness of meat and spices bursting in their mouths. Chief Côn and Bỉ were completely conquered by this dish; they believed this boy was truly intelligent, otherwise how could he have thought of such a wonderful treat.
For Bỉ, a few pastries were just a snack to tide him over. Originally, he was a vegetarian of the Ox-Head tribe, who would have thought that today he would be conquered by the fragrant meat filling inside the pastry.
Bỉ walked over to him, noticing that he was intently shaping each piece of dough. The dough in his hands looked much whiter and smoother than theirs. The Ox-Head tribe man with the reddish-brown fur also returned after finishing eating, silently making pastries with him, so focused that he didn’t even look up, causing Bỉ to just shake his head and laugh.
"Kid." Bỉ leaned down and asked quietly: "This flour of yours, is it made from that stone thing over there?"
Eric was busy flattening the dough wrappers and wrapping the filling inside, only looking up then. He looked in the direction Bỉ was pointing and nodded:
"Yes, that thing is called a stone mill. Using it to grind grain is both fast and saves effort."
Guessing Bỉ’s intention, Eric scratched his head. "It’s just... we just ground up all the wheat in the house, otherwise I would have demonstrated it for you."
This was no big deal in the Red Grass tribe. The man with the curved horns had also wanted to join in the fun of making pastries, but in the end, he was sent by Bỉ to get more wheat.
After baking one batch, Max had gotten the hang of it, able to judge the heat of the fire, and took charge of baking the pastries. He flipped the pastries on the flat metal tray placed over the stove opening gently and skillfully, his movements much faster and more precise than Eric’s.
The entire pastry-making process was now firmly grasped by the Snow Wolf men. Seeing this, Eric found a deep clay pot in the kitchen and began to thinly slice the dried meat that the Ox-Head tribe had brought to prepare a soup.
The Ox-Head tribe was truly prosperous; they didn’t even lack salt. Their dried meat was thoroughly rubbed with salt before being air-dried, so it had no strange smell, and tasted like the cured meat he knew; it would surely make a delicious and sweet soup.
"If only there was some sweet cabbage and a few pieces of tofu, that would be great." Eric muttered as he dropped slices of dried meat into the clay pot.
"Don’t you Snow Wolf people only eat meat? If you want to eat vegetables, we have plenty."
Bỉ heard his whisper, his heart full of curiosity. He had never heard any Snow Wolf person ask to eat vegetables; they ate grains only because they were easy to store through the winter.
But this kid was already unusual, so it wasn’t surprising that he had more strange ideas. He then signaled for another Ox-Head man to go get some vegetables.
Seeing this, Eric quickly thanked him.
"But what is tofu?" Bỉ asked curiously.
Eric looked at him, his smile somewhat mischievous, and put a finger to his lips: "Tomorrow, I’ll let you know."
The kid intentionally kept it a secret, then started another small fire nearby and placed the clay pot on it.
Bỉ’s curiosity was piqued, and he felt restless inside. Seeing him busy preparing for dinner again, he didn’t feel it was convenient to ask more, and could only helplessly scratch his thick mane.
The cold wind outside grew increasingly biting. Bỉ wanted to wait and see how the stone mill worked, so he didn’t go inside; everyone else also stayed outside with him.
As dusk fell, the cold seeped in even more.
Michael and the others found that even sitting by the fire, the dough gradually hardened, making it difficult to wrap the filling. They moved the wooden board inside, finished shaping the pastries, and only then brought them outside to bake.
The beastmen were all wearing simple animal hide clothes, but standing in the cold wind, not a single one showed signs of shivering. In contrast, the Ox-Head tribe members each wore a layer of cotton-padded clothing underneath, looking very warm.
Eric was still a child, his body not yet sturdy enough.
When setting out, Luci had used cotton cloth to sew him a shirt to wear underneath. Although the stitching was still clumsy, he still felt warm-hearted by the care.
Now, he wore the cotton-padded layer inside, with a thick animal hide draped over it, and sitting by the fire, he didn’t feel the cold.
In contrast, Joseph had quietly gone inside to put on another layer. Their Dwarf tribe was much hardier than humans, but the winter on this continent was truly too harsh.
This was also the reason they could peacefully hold onto this place; although it was cold, it stopped the footsteps of greedy humans who wanted to invade. At least in winter, they had a little peace.