"AHHH, precious fire, I should use this to cook."
Liam was already pulling ingredients from his bag. Taro buns. He could slow roast them over the remnants of the trap mechanism still smouldering against the stone floor. His fingers worked fast, arranging them on a flat piece of broken tile.
"If these get more heat, the morale buff should increase. Maybe ten per cent. Maybe fifteen if the char hits right…"
"LIAM, YOU IDIOT!" Elizabeth's boot stomped the flame flat. Sparks scattered across the dungeon floor and died.
He stared at the blackened tile, then at her.
"Damn, Elizabeth." He exhaled through his nose. "That was a perfect cooking temperature, but fair. You're right, we need to find everyone before we make taro roasted buns."
She didn't move. The pink of her hair caught what little light remained in the corridor, and her cat ears pressed back not in anger. In hesitation. Her grip tightened on the hilt of her oversized sword, knuckles pale.
"That's not what I meant."
