Bruno, a large, gentle bull with a crisp white apron, moves between tables, greeting guests with a friendly nod. His horns glint in the light as he clears plates and offers suggestions. There’s laughter and chatter, and the comforting aromas of roasted root vegetables and fresh herbs fill the air.

Dario, Bruno’s brother, waits at the bottom. Unlike Bruno, Dario is a brooding bull with midnight-black fur and piercing eyes, dressed in a chef’s coat stained by spices and darker secrets. He lights candles along a rough stone table, illuminating the menu carved into old wood: “Forest’s Past.” "Is everything ready below?" "More than you know, brother. The guests will be hungry,"

The guests—adventurers, old money, and risk-takers—gather around the candlelit table. Dario welcomes each by name, his voice low and velvet. Bruno watches from the doorway, uneasy, his hooves tapping a nervous rhythm on the stone floor.

"Tonight, you dine on legends—those who hunted, now hunted, their memory alive in taste," Bruno turns away, heart heavy. He remembers the promise he made to himself: kindness, compassion, and never fear. Yet, the money these dinners bring in is undeniable.

"This isn’t what I wanted, Dario. But I can’t argue with the numbers," "You feed their souls upstairs. Down here, I feed their shadows. We both survive," Bruno sighs, torn between pride and guilt.

"Maybe someday, we’ll find a better way," "Until then, let the city feast," Outside, dawn creeps across the sky. Bruno unlocks the front door, ready to greet a new day, his secret safe for now.