[center][hider=Concerning:][@TemplarKnight07][@Xandrya][@Fyre Unholy][/hider][/center]Max had disappeared from his eyrie behind the counter. Perhaps, a misophonic, he let loud noises and nosy conversations seep under his overflowing skin, and grate at his brain. Or maybe he was not fond of women, because following women often enough were men, carnivorous men biting and swiping at each other, scaring each other away from their coveted gazelle. (Women, no doubt, are a debated topic in the Zone. On one hand they can carry less gear and walk fewer miles in a day; on the other, they bring much needed morale to a campfire circle. And speak not of what fate befalls them when an enemy captor decides that death is too sweet a boon! In the ever-troubled minds of the hub barkeeps and tradesmen, women can bring either great profit through their smiles and laughter, or terrible chaos.)

But, no; actually Max had gone to fetch their plates. Toward their table he waddled, revealing his baggy trousers and his claustrophobic little boating shoes. They could hear the plates sizzling, yet he carried them in naked hands, his calluses having grown thick indeed. Even so, he was rather hasty with setting them down, in front of Gideon and Andrew, and wiping the heat off his fingertips into the grease-smeared seat of his sweater.

"[i]Prost[/i]."

He had leaned down and forward, his gut gathering over his belt like a coven of witches and their conclave in the woods. "If this job is a delicate matter, we'd better speak in private," he said. He whispered, but not quietly enough for Amelia and Andrew not to hear.

Ah, fried bliss! its smells flied up to their noses now: the savory meats, tender lamb or maybe veal, had been hammered flat against a layer of brined grape leaves, and rolled up all together with rice. They smelled sweet meat, tangy vegetals, and the salt-water weeping out of the matrimony as if it mourned. Beside these beauties: a bed of pickled red cabbage, blushing red as a field of beets in the sunset; and red potatoes fried with thyme and rosemary. The spices were dried and bottled, though.

Max himself meanwhile had begun to walk away.