Snake, as it turned out, behaved like many other meats. Its main quirk was being exceptionally lean, even when compared to chicken or fish. As long as you kept that in mind and avoided overcooking, it took well to grilling, frying, smoking, or stewing. Paired with root vegetables like carrots or beets to balance out the gaminess, it could make for good eating.All of this was new information to him. Snakes weren't common delicacies in the Empire, but the library was extensive enough to have a number of texts detailing their preparations. They weren't cookbooks in the traditional sense, but accounts from travelers visiting the tribes.Although the term 'visiting' was used loosely. Cal had a strong suspicion that the dates from these books would line up with the Empire's campaigns into the tribes' homeland.His knowledge of said campaigns was spotty, mostly due to the Federation having an unclear picture of them, but he knew what successes they had were fleeting—soon swallowed by the desert they sought to conquer.It was enviable in a way. While the Federation had to scrape and claw its way out of occupations, the tribes had nature do most of the work for them."That is odd literature to occupy yourself with," a polite if firm voice said. "Does it hold any greater meaning to you?"Cal looked up from his book. He was sitting cross-legged in the dirt, smack-dab in the middle of the ruined stadium where they once had classes.Marcus stood to his right, dark blue hair combed neatly to the side. His uniform was adorned with all the usual frills, and his trident was held firmly in his grip. There was a certain intensity in his eyes that Cal wasn't surprised to see."Everyone needs hobbies," Cal said blithely, contemplating how he was going to gut that snake.Brighteye was not very bright. She turned left when he said right, down when he said up, and loved to drop into a spiral before leveling out low enough for (...)