Frostbound

Day 82.

Before the wave started at noon, I needed to take a break.

I had been at this for more than a few days and my mind was tired. A migraine was on the verge of forming and my stomach was rumbling. Some rest and recuperation were in order as was a nice meal.

My cooking wasn't the best in the world but living on my own for the last half a dozen years forced me to get better at it. I was no Michelin star chef, but I could get by. Especially for my own taste buds.

I had to buy more cooking utensils since the ones we had were taken down south but that wasn't a huge deal. They were miniscule in price and I had the points to spare.

Spices, oils, seasonings, the whole nine yards. It all added up to a few hundred points but that was nothing. A single beast gave more than that.

Campfire cooking was an art that I didn't have a lot of experience with but the ability to throw as much wood as I wanted on the fire while controlling the temperature with my ice was a cheat I used to my advantage.

No matter how much fuel the fire had, it would never get hotter than I let it which was great for keeping a steady temperature.

It wasn't a standard grill or anything, but it got the job done.

The food was... average. It wasn't great but it wasn't bad. I had noticed as I increased in levels and stats normal food didn't taste the same. It took more of it to fill me up and lacked the flavor it once had.

I wasn't certain, but I thought it had to do with the level of the meat. If the meat came from a high-level beast, then it tasted better than meat from a lower-level beast.

It probably had something to do with the amount of essence but I wasn't too concerned with it. That sounded like something a chef or cook would worry about.