Ahrin

Ahrin stands in front of her cooking spot, chewing at her thumb nail as she stares down at a recipe book written in an indecipherable language no no no, that won’t work… she mumbles to herself and then lets go of the book. The book floats neatly back to its place on the shelf and Ahrin stirs the mixture in the pot Ambitious souls are hard to create… why does there have to be a quota?