“Oh, thank god. Real food.”
She flips through the menu, realizes she’s going to be eating a lot of veggies on this trip if behemoth steaks are going to be the best recommendation that she is going to get, and tosses it to Chuami in favor of flopping back against the pillows.
At least the bed is comfortable.
“I should have taken Penny’s advice and packed some food for myself, but you’ve gotten me a little concerned about what they’d do to a block of tofu.”
There are a few granola bars, some snacks, a pack of trail mix, in her pack, if things get dire.
“Please tell me at least the agencies are capable of rustling up a bottle of wine.”
“Tofu?” Chuami scoffs in reply, “Tofu is hippie food. You’re not in Bevelle now, you know. You’ll eat what Cid eats – a sahagin curry with a couple of naan bread on the side.”
She breaks off into a laugh as she realises that, without really meaning for it to happen, her voice had gotten steadily more blunt and harsh until it finally became a pretty good Cid impression.
“Wine, though? Yes, we do wine. Some of it might be a bit cactusy, but that’s all part of its charm. Or we could ask if they’ve imported anything from Guadosalam lately. That’s actually really good. Want me to go see?”
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