[DTA] Fusion Cuisine Salad

“Hey lil guy, I hear you’ve got some skill with Atlantean cuisine!”

Colubrid stares up at the black and orange therizinosaurus speaking to him, then over at his boyfriend, Fledge, who had just arrived with the stranger.  Fledge shrugs apologetically.  “You could say that,” Colubrid says cautiously.  “And who are you?”

“Oh, yeah!  I’m Flambé, I wander the Kiama Islands looking for the best food that can be found.  I’m here in the Ivywood today and I stumbled across Fledge over there, who told me you’re a transplant from Atlantis, and you know your way around these other transplants from Atlantis!” she explains, gesturing at a nearby invasive plant from the biodome.  Despite the tentative peace formed with the underwater nation, the plants were proving hard to control.

Fledge, a brown and white therizinosaurus, taps his claws together nervously.  “I just mentioned you’re really good at making those Atlantean plants taste good, and she said she just had to meet you, and, well,” he shrugs, helpless.  Fledge was never very good at telling people no.

Colubrid tamps down his annoyance.  His plans for today had included napping in the sunshine, not playing chef for a giant dinosaur that looks like she’d been set on fire.  But Flambé is here now, and looking very hopeful, and he is maybe faintly proud that his boyfriend thought his food concoctions so good he would brag to others about them.  “Right.  Okay.  Name’s Colubrid, not ‘lil guy,’ and I did used to work in the kitchens in Atlantis,” he says, and Flambé lights up- literally, he thinks he sees the white stripes along her throat glow brighter.  “Not a good gig,” he adds warningly, before she can say anything, “But I learned some things.  Give me some time to forage, and I’ll make something you haven’t tasted before.”

Flambé looks utterly delighted.  “Of course, of course, take all the time you need!  There’s no rushing good food,” she exclaims.  Colubrid lifts himself to his feet and sets off into the highland rainforest, heading toward where he knew some of the Atlantean plants had been proliferating.  Flambé wastes no time following him.

On this part of the island, the rainforest remains green even in winter, though it’s significantly cooler than the summer months.  Flambé has to duck around trailing vines, and Colubrid pushes through ferns nearly as tall as he is.  These are all Isla Kela natives, though, and not the flora he is looking for.  Flambé speaks up as he walks.  “So, what are you planning to make today?” she asks.

Colubrid tilts his head to look back at her, saying, “I guess the humans would call it a salad.”

Flambé nods.  “The most classic of herbivore dishes, but with an Atlantean twist!”

“You could say that,” he replies, hopping over a fallen tree.

It doesn’t take long to come across Atlantean plants.  Their leaves are strange, shot through with purple, and they stretch taller than the surrounding undergrowth.  Colubrid starts hunting around near the base of the plants, Flambé having to bend low to see what the smaller oviraptor is doing.  “These plants are poisonous,” Colubrid explains, flicking a wing at the leaf arching over his head.  “But it takes time for the poison to develop.  And the young shoots are very tasty.”  He scratches at where some leaves are just starting to unfurl from the stem, not yet displaying the purple color of the older plants.  He harvests these, and more, before moving on.

They come to a small clearing, sunlight shining directly on the rainforest floor.  Here, the ground is covered in what looks like unusually large clover.  Colubrid peers closely at them.  “These resemble regular clover, but they always have four leaves,” he points a claw at one, which does indeed hold four leaves.

Flambé gazes out at the field of them.  “Wow, that’s a lotta luck!” she comments.  Colubrid collects some of these as well, before retreating back under the shade of the trees.  He pauses to strip some broad leaves off another plant with his beak, then turns toward where they had left Fledge.  “Wait, that’s not an Atlantean plant,” Flambé observes.  “What are you doing with that one?”

Colubrid turns his head back to look at her.  “Well, you wanted fusion cuisine, right?  Atlantean and surface food?  This is the surface food,” he says.

Flambé’s eyes widen.  “Right on!” she exclaims.  “This is going to be good.”

They pass again through the area where Flambé has to duck under the vines, and Colubrid stops.  “Would you mind pulling some of those down for me?” he asks.

Flambé pulls her head back from where she narrowly avoided one of the vines catching around her throat.  “Sure, would make walking a lot easier!” she says, pulling several of the long, leafy vines free.  They carry their catch back, and Fledge perks up upon seeing them.  Colubrid nuzzles his chest for a second, then turns to the business of preparing the salad.

He strips the leaves off the vines Flambé collected, then mashes the clover in his beak a bit, before mixing all the ingredients together on a flat stone.  Flambé watches, fascinated at the process.  After a moment, Colubrid steps back, gesturing with wide-open wings.  “All yours,” he says.

Flambé doesn’t hesitate, leaning down for a big bite of salad.  She’s barely begun to chew before she exclaims, “Mm!  Now THAT’S flavor!!”  She finishes the first bite, then continues, “It’s so sweet!  And a little spicy!  I’ve never had a salad with that combo before!”  Colubrid’s striped feathers puff up a bit with pride.  He may have been annoyed at first, but Flambé’s praise makes him glad he decided to whip something up for her.