There were numerous food stalls in and around Limsa Lominsa. Most of them sold some form of fish, featuring local delicacies to common and greasy meals that used the cheapest ingredients. But all of them had some claim to using only the freshest of what was available.
It was, of course, a common-and-greasy variant that Zhi took Flit to. It sold fish-on-sticks primarily, using the cheapest and most common fish sold in the harbor. They were fried skin on, a half-fillet each. Zhi bought a head to go with hers: lightly crisped, it was cheap, and the eyeballs made for a pleasant zing of flavor after the greasiness of the fillet.
She settled them under an overhang from an awning of another business. At that time of morning, the few rickety tables and chairs set up were all taken. Limsa Lominsa was starting to come alive, the buzz of chatter and the sound of commerce filling up the city's unique structure.
Zhi cradled her food protectively and dug into it without regard for neatness or manners. When she spoke, it was with mouth full: she was unabashed that the masticated lump she was currently chewing on would be fully visible to anyone who looked at her face. "Th' Heavy Handers, it's possible they might be tied up wi' the man what's tryin' t' take out Thatcher." She was casual, ears flicking back and forth as she listened to their surroundings. She had her back to a wall.
It was, of course, a common-and-greasy variant that Zhi took Flit to. It sold fish-on-sticks primarily, using the cheapest and most common fish sold in the harbor. They were fried skin on, a half-fillet each. Zhi bought a head to go with hers: lightly crisped, it was cheap, and the eyeballs made for a pleasant zing of flavor after the greasiness of the fillet.
She settled them under an overhang from an awning of another business. At that time of morning, the few rickety tables and chairs set up were all taken. Limsa Lominsa was starting to come alive, the buzz of chatter and the sound of commerce filling up the city's unique structure.
Zhi cradled her food protectively and dug into it without regard for neatness or manners. When she spoke, it was with mouth full: she was unabashed that the masticated lump she was currently chewing on would be fully visible to anyone who looked at her face. "Th' Heavy Handers, it's possible they might be tied up wi' the man what's tryin' t' take out Thatcher." She was casual, ears flicking back and forth as she listened to their surroundings. She had her back to a wall.
