"...I know you would be sorry, if you weren't so very dead," Rizx sang under her breath, "But you never listened to a word I said."

She scooped up a spoonful of broth and a cube that might have been potato, glistening with a thin glaze of meat fat, and shoveled it into her mouth, chewing. It was pretty dismal, even by her tribe's standards. The gatherers would bring in wild onion and herbs - something, she admitted, was very hard to find around here. Even some salt would be an improvement.

Taking her chunk of bread, she dipped it into the soup to soften it, then started chewing on it, her eyes flitting back and forth.

"They all... party?" the goblin asked, hiding her mouth behind the bread. But then where was there to go?