[align=center][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 325px;][justify][size=9pt]Cookinf was a foreign concept to Apollo. Even during his past two experiences as a mortal - when he'd been a human, of course, long before the birth of modern civilization - while he had served under two great Greek kings, both times as a shepherd, he'd been tended to by handmaidens. As a god, he thrived off of ambrosia, something that you could change the flavor of with a snap of your fingers. But now... now, he was on his own. He could either eat raw meat - which was disgusting, in his opinion - or he could cook his food himself.
And so that's what he would do.
The ex-god knew basic fire safety, at least. He'd formed a circle of stones and piled sticks in the middle. How he had gotten the actual flame going was a mystery, but it was crackling and lively. Apollo himself stood before the small fire pit, a chunk of deer's meet impaled upon a long stick. He glared at the meat as if blaming it for all of his problems, wondering just exactly how he would go about doing this.
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