"Don't let them eat it all!"
"Leave some for us!"
"I want the one that smells sweet!"
"No, I want the spicy one!"
"I saw the shiny piece first!"
"You liar, you didn't!"
"Get out of my way before I throw you in that thing!"
Over a hundred elves from every direction sprinted toward the tables, trampling over bushes and roots, their elegant grace abandoned completely.
Some leapt down from tree platforms, others shoved through the crowd, their eyes raging with hunger.
Selma reached the table first and she snatched the nearest piece—a large, golden thigh dripping with thick, glossy sauce.
She held it up for half a second, admiring it like a sacred relic—
Then she saw the horde behind her.
"Oh no, no, no!" She panicked. "If I wait, they'll steal it all!"
In a flash, she took one deep sniff and shoved it into her mouth.
Bite!
There was a crunch.
Then silence...before she fell to her knees, staring blankly at the sky.
