"The real question is, did the pot survive?" There was a whole spectrum of 'someone burned the soup again,' ranging from semi-edible dinner (if you liked the taste of lightly-burnt soup) to a now-unusable pot and exile from the kitchens for the sake of everyone's eyebrows and tastebuds. "Mm, and where would he be without his grace? He has ladies to impress, I'm sure!"
Nashwa chuckled at the exchange that followed, and gave Altan a little scritch under his chin for being so agreeable perched up on her shoulder. "Quite a mystery! There must be a bad example lurking somewhere in the Barracks, corrupting all the flits."
