Jorel was in the middle of gutting a river fish with the knife he had grabbed earlier. It was routine for Brook and Jorel to make the food, though of course today would be the first without Conrad. Jorel of course could understand why he had done it, but... After 9 months? Really? It occupied his mind throughout the entire course of prepping the food.

Earlier he had found Conrad follow Brook into the kitchen. He stood up to do the same, but he came back out with a number of items in hand. "Mate, what are you doing?" Conrad looked into Jorel's eyes, and it really didn't take too long to realise what his motives were. He looked at the bundle of items Conrad held; packaged foods, drinks, other consumables, some bits of survival stuff here and there, and a random pot plant that Sam would kill him for. "If you're leaving, fine mate. Just take that and go." It was a armful of stuff, but it certainly wasn't going to hinder the group's survival, except maybe Jorel's for allowing Conrad to leave with the plant. Conrad nodded, and the two exchanged a brief handshake - albeit awkward with Conrad's gear - before he left the cabin. Moments later, the Explorer sounded, and Jorel watched Conrad roll off. He sighed. Turning around, he headed towards the kitchen.

Jorel had finished gutting the fish, removing the organs from it and chucking it into a bucket that he had kicked beside him. It made a lovely splat as it hit the bottom. He grunted, then began to drain the fish of blood, before filleting it and removing the bones. The work took just as long as it took Brook to do her amount of cooking, but he had chopped it into bits in time to dump into the pot. "Voilà," Jorel half-heartedly exclaimed as he tossed the fish into the pot. "One less mouth to feed, and another mouth to feed. Let's hope she isn't wasting air." Jorel hopped up onto the bench once done, leaning back to look up at the ceiling, cranking his neck. "I'd like a bath..." He sniffed himself, scrunching up his face. "Haven't had one in almost a year, it seems."