Lake Lewisia #1159

[scrubjayspeaks]

Lennox, having spent so much of his younger, more troubled years in the forest, found it relatively easy to coax a salamander into producing a modest flame suitable for the gentle cooking of a smooth custard. To win a competition, though, he found himself leaning eyebrow-threateningly close to the stove and whispering, “You know, out in the salt marshes, no one bothers with spots anymore,” and other such petty needlings. As the competition clock ticked toward the limit, the little elemental lizard chittered in indignation and flashed over with a whoosh of displaced air, leaving behind a slightly smoldering baker and a perfectly seared crust on his crème brûlée.

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LL#1159