Oshiro stepped inside. "Now," he said, "what was that I smelled?"

Gretchen scuttled back as Oshiro strode across the room. He smiled at the silver tray on the coffee table, and yanked the cover upward.

"Tuna," he said, marveling at the whole fish that lay before him. He inhaled a deep, long sniff. "Mmm, fresh. It smells delicious, with just the slightest tinge of cremated Cynocephali mashed into the gills." He swept the tray to the floor. "Honestly," he said, shaking his head. ...