After days of fantastic food, a dizzying array of fruits and fish pulled fresh from the ocean just before being cooked, the glop that the Oymyakon Foreign Service Academy called dinner was even less appetizing than usual. Grayish ground meat molded into balls and drowned in lumpy gravy, with a side of greens cooked down to a sludge that might still have been edible if any real butter had been available. But the yellow stuff that sat in bowls next to the bread baskets was not even pretending to be butter. It was a bit of a mystery, just what it really was. But not a mystery Ritchie felt any need to c***k.
Ritchie chided herself for this new disdain towards the school"s food. She had gotten awfully spoiled in just a handful of days. She reminded herself how lucky she was to even be here. An
