“For a bunch that’s renowned to have some of the least sensitive palate in the world, you’d be surprised at how nice the cooking in Highmountain City was. As long as you’re fine with the occasional grub and lots of fatty foods, that is.” - Egil Longbottom, Half-dwarven traveler and bard.

After they took in the wondrous sights to their heart’s content, Cal and her group descended to the crater. The slope was steep, but there were some rough-hewn stairs from several places at the lip of the crater to its bottom, likely ones meant for visitors to use. That many of the larger inn-like structures were built near those stairs further reinforced the suggestion.

It was still rather early in the afternoon when they arrived, so the group toured the town first, rather than seek out a place to stay in. The ground level of the crater was noticeably far less crowded despite the population, as the majority of the inhabitants flew in the air, with only the few flightless breeds walking on the ground.

Despite the relatively unused streets, the city was lively, as avian therians of all sorts and a few other races and tribes lived their lives and did their business as usual. Visitors were a relatively rare occurrence to Highmountain City, but also not exactly uncommon, though most took the net up rather than challenge the steep slopes of the mountain.

That Cal’s group did exactly that - much less with a child in tow - caused some raised eyebrows upon those who noticed their arrival. The air was still extremely cold even in the crater, not a surprise as avian breeds of therians tend to be less bothered by the cold than most, so Krystal kept up the blanket of warmth that enveloped her and Vark, while Leila and Ilena kept themselves warm by having a few small orbs of magma hovering around them.

“Have some grubs, ma’am? Plump and juicy! Just harvested this morning!” offered a hawker who looked like a half-breed. His features mostly resembled the avians around, but his wings were notably shorter, with a more developed-claw hand and longer legs more suited to walking. The half-breed man was sitting cross-legged by the roadside with a large bucket of squirming grubs on one side and a smaller bowl of what looked like marinade or sauce on the other with a brush in it. He also had a set of wooden skewers and a wide charcoal brazier set in front of him.

Having insects - whether they be fully grown ones or their grubs or eggs - for food was a practice that was common in some areas of the world, most notably in Ptolodecca and the Western Isles, as well as some regions of the northern plains, while it was uncommon elsewhere. Some of the party who were raised in cities like Giselle and Leila looked at the squirming grubs with some trepidation, while others who were raised in poorer conditions or in the forests simply looked nonchalantly or even licked their lips.

Cal ordered some skewers for the whole group, since they haven’t had lunch yet anyway, and the happy vendor deftly took some skewers with one hand while his other hands picked up the grubs four at a time and skewered them rapidly until each skewer had a half dozen fat grubs on them.

Then he laid the two dozen skewers on the bars set atop the embers in the brazier to grill, while he brushed the still-squirming grubs with some of the sauce from the bowl on his side. Before long a sweet-savory smell filled the air as the grubs roasted over the charcoals and the vendor flipped them, brushing the other side with the sauce as well, his trained hand easily handling the dozens of skewers with ease.

In less than ten minutes, the grubs had their once-white outsides turned to a golden-brown, with some char marks where they laid on the metal bars. The grubs shrunk somewhat during the cooking process, but each one was easily still as large as a thumb each, so two skewers a person - one for Ilena - was still quite a substantial meal.

Cal bit off one of the grubs whole off the skewer and chewed it, to find that the insect larvae had a pleasantly chewy consistency after the cooking, with a flavor that resembled prawns or shrimps, but lighter and creamier, juxtaposed against the sweet-savory sauce it was basted with, only lightly applied so the sauce does not overwhelm the grub’s gentle flavor and instead amplified it.

Several of the group who were not used to eating insects - much less ones that were still squirming before their eyes just a few minutes ago - also looked pleasantly surprised after a tentative nibble on the grubs, and they thanked the vendor, Cal paying for the group with five silver coins and telling the vendor to keep the change with a smile.

They washed it down with a light ale likely brewed from the pale corn grown widely in the crater, since the beverage had that bit of sweetness typical to corn. The drink was lighter than most, and felt more like a fermented fruit juice than a proper ale, but was refreshing nonetheless, and a good fit for the snack they had.

It was not hard for them to locate the inn suggested by the old therian they met during the climb, a large one that clearly catered to travelers. Many of those travelers were other avian therians whose tribes inhabit the peaks of other mountains in the vicinity, as Highmountain was merely the tallest mountain in the Isle, not the only one, as well as the occasional visitor like Cal’s party.

Dinner was one of those ranched Greedy Beaks they saw on the way in, roasted whole with a stuffing of mashed corn flour and spices, which cooked to a firm cake-like consistency in the oven. The rotund bird was very fatty, though the fattiness was cut cleverly by the sour-spicy marinade used, which made the dish far more palatable, while the fats gave plenty of energy to those who ate it, which was much needed in the cold climate up on the mountaintop.