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“I'm Ukrainian, actually. And I'm making my signature dish," he said slowly, meeting Ibáñez's stare. "More shocking than Rocky Mountain oysters." He nodded to Volière. "Rarer than ortolan. Maybe just as taboo, though." He turned to Katsuki. "And it does more than just dance around death. It reverses it." There was silence in the kitchen as they waited for the punch line, anxious to learn if the things they'd heard through the grapevine were true. "Well?" Volière prompted. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" "I don't know." Kostya shrugged. "The Dead haven't fed it to me yet.” — Daria Lavelle
I'm Ukrainian, actually. And I'm making my signature dish," he said slowly, meeting Ibáñez's stare. "More shocking than Rocky Mountain oysters." He nodded to Volière. "Rarer than ortolan. Maybe just as taboo, though." He turned to Katsuki. "And it does more than just dance around death. It reverses it."
There was silence in the kitchen as they waited for the punch line, anxious to learn if the things they'd heard through the grapevine were true.
"Well?" Volière prompted. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?"
"I don't know." Kostya shrugged. "The Dead haven't fed it to me yet.