["Carmine" wasn't sure what sort of food she was expecting might be produced in a strange crystalline cave such as this, looking like a scene from a fantasy or sci-fi movie... but it's familiar. Home-made bread. Dried meat. Drink.
Still carefully holding the stone she's been given, despite not knowing what it was even for, she gratefully, quietly accepts the food... and brings it to her lips. Still weak, she struggles a moment to rip a bite from the length of the beef jerky, but the bread is easier... and she chews on the both of them together, her gaze dropping in contemplation. The seasoning was good... not too much, not too little... the meat was cured well...]
Did you make this... ?
[As a Contractor, the idea of baking or cooking with love had been a strange, laughable phrase... but she'd learned it, as a Regressor. What it tasted like, when food was made by someone with caring, thoughtful hands. How to try and apply them herself, to make the food Laura's children had tugged on her apron strings and pleaded for.
She swallows... and a small, aching little smile curls her thin lips.]
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["Carmine" wasn't sure what sort of food she was expecting might be produced in a strange crystalline cave such as this, looking like a scene from a fantasy or sci-fi movie... but it's familiar. Home-made bread. Dried meat. Drink.
Still carefully holding the stone she's been given, despite not knowing what it was even for, she gratefully, quietly accepts the food... and brings it to her lips. Still weak, she struggles a moment to rip a bite from the length of the beef jerky, but the bread is easier... and she chews on the both of them together, her gaze dropping in contemplation. The seasoning was good... not too much, not too little... the meat was cured well...]
Did you make this... ?
[As a Contractor, the idea of baking or cooking with love had been a strange, laughable phrase... but she'd learned it, as a Regressor. What it tasted like, when food was made by someone with caring, thoughtful hands. How to try and apply them herself, to make the food Laura's children had tugged on her apron strings and pleaded for.
She swallows... and a small, aching little smile curls her thin lips.]
... It's really good...