He took a bite.
Paused.
Chewed slowly.
'…Okay. I would kill for this stew. I would die for this stew. I would probably write a love letter to this stew.'
Ren looked over. "It good?"
"Don't talk to me," he said. "I'm in mourning for every meal that wasn't this."
She grinned and tossed him a piece of bread. He caught it without looking.
Ashwing snored under the table.
The fire crackled in the hearth. Outside, wind whispered under the eaves, but not enough to matter.
Meren dunked his bread into his stew and looked like he'd seen a vision.
"This is actually perfect. Did we… earn this?"
"No," Lindarion said. "But I'm taking it anyway."
Lira didn't speak, but her bowl was already empty. Which, for her, was basically a standing ovation.
Ren pointed her spoon at Ardan. "You haven't said anything."
He looked up. "I ate."
"Yeah, but did you enjoy it?"
"I ate."
"That's a no."
