[h3]No Going Back[/h3]
A Dervy Shafting
[I]13th Sun’s Height 4E208, Southern Druadach Mountains, West of Falkreath Hold…[/I]

“Seems strange seeing you again, outside of the palace I mean.” Daro’Vasora announced, coming up behind Sevari and crouching next to him by the fire where he was preparing some of their limited food for supper. She sniffed, trying to get a thumb on what the scent was. <I suppose we can speak Ta’agra without being rebuked for it now I’m not in a posh prison.> she added with a smile. 

Sevari chuckled, <I guess we can.> he smiled in turn, <Odd, isn’t it? Even keeping you two prisoner and as unsavory a history we have, talking with you the first time like this…>

His smile turned downward a tick, a pang of longing maybe not for the warm sands of Elsweyr, but a sense of belonging and familiarity ringing in his chest, <It was like going back to a simpler time. Or as simple as my life ever was.>

He stirred the pot a little just as it began to bubble up again, keeping the meager amount of meat and wild vegetables moving inside the steaming broth. He figured he may as well make it look like he knew what he was doing. He was no chef, but making something to fill his belly out of scraps was his specialty since living dirty in the brush of Elsweyr and the jungles of Valenwood. When he had different names in different times. <You have the accent of a foreigner in your Ta’agra sometimes.> he said, his pronunciation almost seeming like it came from a different person, someone who hadn’t spent so long masquerading as a Colovian named Savian, <Meaning no offense. I just take it you weren’t born speaking it.>

<I was raised speaking the common tongue of the Empire and Ta’agra side by side, I’m from Leyawiin and the product of a robust education and a mother that insisted I learn proper court etiquette.> Daro’Vasora explained with a slight smile, reaching her hands out to the flames to warm them. <You know, I never blamed you for your part in all of that. Part of the reason I decided to speak to you now is because I wanted to thank you for what you had done for Latro and I; you’re a good man. I still don’t see how you and Zaveed are related.> she admitted, glancing over to catch the Ohmes-raht’s eyes.  

<I think you’re the first person to ever call me a good man.> Sevari chuckled, shaking his head as if Sora had told a joke, <In a long time, leastways. I just did what anyone would do for their asset. Important ones, anyways.>

He still had his smile as he spoke, looking into the fire. Her mention of Zaveed brought him back to those days in the streets of the Senchal gutters, living on scraps and fighting for each day spent alive. It was rough, harsh, terrifying, and he was scared every single day of it. Looking at it, times hadn’t changed much if those things were what he was going by. <Zaveed and I aren’t. Not by blood. A bond, we spent years together in the slums of Senchal clawing a life out of the gutters. It made me who I am.>

<I was born in Torval though. My father was a Khajiiti Auxiliary in the Dominion army when they went to war with the Empire. Not that I ever cared a shit to make him proud when I was but a little boy, but I think my occupation now would’ve brought his and my mother’s death some justice.> he frowned, stirring the pot once more, <Should be done soon. Anyways, there’s probably a handful out of everybody in Tamriel that would count me among good men.>

<Brothers by deed, not by blood.> Daro’Vasora nodded with understanding. <I had heard what happened to Suffian from Latro…> she reached over to place a hand on Sevari’s shoulder compassionately. <For what it’s worth from someone who barely knows you, I am sorry. My sister’s well-being is one of the most serious of concerns I have, I don’t know how I’d handle losing her… let alone being forced to act in the way you did. That had to have been the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.> she said quietly, taking back her hand and entwining her fingers as she regarded the stew. 

<I know you’ve done some things that many would consider vile or repulsive, much like Zaveed, but I believe you ultimately have honest and honourable goals in mind. I’m a historian; I’ve read many tales of predominant people who are remembered as heroes or just rulers, and behind almost every single one of them is a trail of blood and hardship that would make most people balk.> Daro’Vasora said, hoping it helped ease the man’s conscious. 

<You didn’t have to help Latro and I; you had power in that situation, and you chose to listen to our concerns and act on them. You could have maintained Latro as an asset by much harsher methods, you could have held Zaveed over our heads as a threat… there’s a number of scenarios where you didn’t decide to use what power you had to do the right thing. It counts for something.> She said.

Sevari smiled, looking down at the toe of his boot. The right thing, condolences, justification. <Maybe it does.> he turned his head and spat, <But it won’t to the gods’ judgement. Look, Sora, I don’t need somebody offering forgiveness when I’m not asking for it. I’m glad Latro didn’t die, I’m glad my brother didn’t do whatever evil shit to you he did to Raelynn that he hypocritically tosses the weight of over his shoulder like it’s fucking nothing. Else Suffian won’t be the only brother on my conscience.>

He was breathing harder now, the mention of what happened in Al-Aqqiya burned him as if he’d tried to hug the fire in front of him. <My brother’s name never comes out of anyone’s mouth unless I just told them to repeat it after I told them, or I’m so out of earshot there’s a national border between me and them.>

He drew in a long breath that rattled the tail of itself as he put a hand over a quivering lip. He closed his eyes and growled. <It’s fresh, Sora.> he said, all the quaking anger guttered out of his voice, <It’s so godsdamned fresh I feel like I’m still gonna have his dry blood flaking off my palms if I rub them together. I’m sorry, I just don’t want my mind looking back there.>

His head turned up and he looked around at the trees and dirt, mountains and grass. So different from Hammerfell, <Especially now I’m so far away from it.>

The rebuke rattled Daro’Vasora to the core, prompting her to stand and walk to the other side of the fire, frowning. Sevari was still a dangerous man, an unknown to her save her brief encounters with the man, his deeds at the prison, and what Latro had told her. She slipped back into the common tongue, the efforts at reconciliation over. “I know it’s fresh, but you’re not doing yourself or anyone any favours by lashing out at even the mention of his name.” She replied, tersely. “You don’t feel comfortable talking about it? Fine, a few words is all you need, not barely contained rage.” she shook her head, crossing her arms as she stared at the man across the fire.

“Thing is, I let you and your brother accompany us because we had a mutual goal because there are so much bigger things to worry about than a cutthroat sea-raider and his brooding asshole of a brother who carries everything he’s done on his sleeves and refuses to let people close and then wonders why he’s lonely all the time. 

“I get it, I do; I used to very much do the same thing because I assumed everyone I met was a treasonous curr who would backstab me when it was profitable to do so. But you know what? For claiming you don’t want to look back, that’s the only way you seem to look. Even I see your damnable adoptive brother looks forward to the point he shirks personal accountability. Maybe if the two of you met somewhere in the middle you’d actually be pleasant to talk to.” Daro’Vasora snorted, grinding the toe of her boots in the sand, her eyes rolling at the wasted effort. 

“So, if it pleases you, I’ll leave you the fuck alone and we can go back to whatever we were before because I sure as shit don’t have time for this when there’s a war to fight. Just say the word.”

Sevari chuckled low and rueful, slipping a hand in his coat and pulling out his flask and a cigar, “Go fight it then, soldier.” He took a pull from the flask and then lit the cigar, “Or…”

He tossed the flask over the fire to land in the dirt at Sora’s side, and as the smoke from his puffing dissipated, he donned a guilty look. “I’ve never been a pleasant conversationalist. I’ve never been fucking happy for more than a few months. And I’m more likely to split someone’s face with my steel than reconcile.” He shook his head, “But fucking shit, woman, I’m trying at it so godsdamned hard.”

The thought of Zaveed himself pulling his pistol away from Gregor’s smug fucking face sent another lightning bolt of anger through him before he looked away, puffing his cigar a bit more, “Real hard.” He muttered, “I don’t have a ponce with a big damn temper to help me change my ways. I have that flask though, I’ve got this stew, and I’ve got some people around me silently hissing in my ear because my brother’s my brother.”

“So, we start over.” He sighed, “There’s whiskey there if you’d like it. I’ve got no plans of telling you to fuck off.”

Putting her toes under the flask, Daro’Vasora kicked it up to her hand with effortless precision and regarded it for a moment before casually tossing it back. “Seems you need it more than I. Besides, that shit rots my guts on an empty stomach. More of a wine kind of gal.” She replied, crouching down next to the fire once more.

“Look, I don’t really have the luxury of time these days, especially the way this story ends for me so I’d rather spend that time in the company of people who can remind me that this shitty world is actually worth giving my all to. My uncle died to the Dwemer defending a couple kids, I probably would have been a pile of discarded meat if I got there twenty minutes earlier. Your brother killed a former partner and lover of mine in a needless execution before doing you-know-what to me. Know what I decided?” she asked, looking up to Sevari across from the fire. 

“I’d be doing both of them a disservice if I tried to forget them, or if I let my emotions dictate what I do next. I’m a very passionate person; it’s why I do most of what I do, but I’m all too aware that if I act out of anger, or hatred, or whatever, someone in this group could die and that would be on me.” she sighed, her eyes finding the pillar of green energy to the East. “Seems I still have thousands of lives to repent for.”

Sevari leaned over and snatched up the flask that’d landed next to him. He took another pull from it and his eyes didn’t waver from the opening, “Sora, I’m forty-fucking-two and just learning to be myself and not some fabricated identity. I’ve been chasing the same man and killing all his friends and acquaintances across Southern Tamriel for two decades.” He shook his head, “And all I’ve got to show for it is a scorned childhood friend, a wife who hasn’t seen me in near-twenty years and a son or daughter who doesn’t know who I am. We’ve all got something to repent for.”

“My mother, my father. I’ve done everything I’ve done for them. And they’d revile me for some of it.” His words turned to a mutter by the last, “So, how's this all end for you, then? Since you seem to know already. How’s it end for all of us? Glorious last stand?”

“Someone’s got to go through that portal that’s letting the bulk of their forces through, and someone has to put that lexicon into the machine that’s connecting Exodus to Nirn. Might as well be me. If I’m lucky, I’ll die of old age or a blade before the entire realm collapses on me and who knows what happens then.” Daro’Vasora replied evenly, prodding the fire with a stick to shove a log back into position. “Thing is, Rhea was the one who activated that machine that let the Dwemer come back in a desperate measure to save her group, but she’s no longer alive to set things right, so it might as well go to the person who refused to punch her in the jaw for even suggesting turning the damned machine on.”

Her gaze turned to the stars above, finally breaking through the clouds. “It’s not exactly what I planned to do with my life, but how many history books are filled with heroes who died before they left an old and weathered corpse? Pretty much all of them. At least that way my parents might be proud of who I became, and my sister can have someone in the family worth looking up to.” She said with a shrug. “Not that I fancy being a martyr, but it sure beats dying alone and forgotten in some Nord barrow looking for some dickhead king’s scepter that may or may not even be there.”

“Well…” Sevari said, not knowing what to follow it with. He instead thought of that while taking a few puffs of his cigar, “Seems pretty shit.”

“I’ve had my share of war. I can understand that. I know what it’s like looking every day in the face knowing there’s a chance you might not see its sunset. It comes with the job.” He shrugged, “If you truly think you’re going to do, you will. You’ll act like it, like you could die at any minute and you’ll not care. Then, when it finally happens, you’ll shake your fist at the Gods and curse fate. Not knowing all along that if you’d just tied your laces, just checked your weapons a bit more, you’d be alive.”

“Fill it anyway with people you love, or humor, or anything other than despair. I can hear it in your voice, a tiny whisper under all that snark that’s telling you that you’re going to die in the end.” He took a long pull from his whiskey, then another, “Take it from someone who’s been on both ends of a blade, pissing myself and begging for my life, screaming at the pain of my wounds like a child.”

He flashed a smile <It is good to be brave, and be bravest those times.> he shrugged, “Or at least that’s what I try to tell myself. There’s an off chance we all make it back safe. I’m clinging to that one, if you don’t mind.”

“The [I]Ahzirr Traajijazeri[/I], an informal handbook of the Renrijra’Krin. It was one of my favorite books growing up as a young girl in Leyawiin where the most exciting part of my day was leaving the house and having pretend battles with sticks with other children in the streets.” Daro’Vasora replied with an acknowledging smile. “I never much took to authority or the stuffy rules and laws that were hoisted upon me when I was a girl, so you could imagine how a ragtag life of a partisan appealed to my imagination. Could be a big reason I ended up getting my honourific from my father.” she said with a speculative shrug.

“I thought I was being pretty plain I’m expressing that I am pretty sure I’m going to die, but I [I]really[/I] don’t want to. It’s just been quiet enough the past few weeks that I haven’t been able to focus on more pressing things rather than speculating about what-ifs. The problem is, I cannot think of another way. For all of my experience and smarts, I’m still dealing with a lot of hypotheticals and unknowns. This is thrusting a pike blindly into the smoke and hoping it sticks something that’s trying to kill me, not the controlled and measured actions of a duelist.” Daro’Vasora said, grinding her teeth in concentration, coming up short, and shaking her head. “I walked a Moonpath before we left the Alik’r and my ancestors advised me to seek advice on this matter, and perhaps it’s arrogance, but I don’t really see anybody who couldn’t tell you the difference between Clockwork and Dwemer craftsmanship being able to offer much insight into this little problem of mine.”

“Fine.” Sevari feigned offense with a small smirk, “So, we can sit here and talk about dying or we can talk about something else. There’s talk about camp that you and that insufferable fucking Nord have a history. How the fuck does a Stormcloak have a history with anybody else who isn’t a fucking backwards, xenophobic prick like them?”

[I]Oh, that bloody big mouth…[/I] Daro'Vasora thought, resisting the urge to scowl. Fjolte liked to brag without consideration of the people he was with's feelings. She'd have words for him later.

Instead, she said, “At the time, I didn't know his past and he gave no indication he was anything other than infatuated. We worked a job, survived a rival's attempts to off us, and it seemed like an ideal way to shut him up.” Daro'Vasora shrugged.

“You know,” Sevari said, his eyes almost watering at the effort it took to not smile at what he was about to say, nor Sora’s irritation, “I’ve tried everything from steel to hard words to shut somebody up, but I’ve never fucked them before. Do you usually come to that decision or was that a particularly pressing matter?”

She rolled her eyes at that small amount of sass. She couldn’t be bothered to dignify Sevari’s observations with words.

Sevari let go a small laugh that died down until he sighed, almost as if he breathed the merriment out of his lungs with the breath, “I could do it for you, you know. Shut him up. I won’t fuck him, but nobody slights a friend of mine and walks.” He shrugged, straightening himself and rolling his shoulders, “Leastways, I can find an excuse to do it myself. Wouldn’t need our fearless leader being worried to death about exes when there’s a war on. And I might stop at hard words.”

He looked around, but no sight of Latro, “Your scary little Reachman that unnerves even me might just up and off him with his dinner fork if the Nord boy speaks the wrong word.”

Daro’Vasora blinked. “Is that where your mind goes immediately? By S’rendarr, [I]no.[/I] Just, no.” she replied, shaking her head. “Being annoyed by someone’s antics is hardly worth harming them over. Despite his guarshit, he’s still a friend, I suppose. Is that what you consider us to be?” She asked. 

Sevari shrugged, “Might as well try for it.”

“And sometimes,” he held his hands up and chuckled, “I’m a simple man. Being violent comes second nature to someone who’s lived a life like mine. Apologies if that isn’t to your liking.”

Daro’Vasora rolled her jaw in thought. “We’ve all got pasts that shape who we are. I don’t judge you for being violent, Alkosh knows I’ve left a few people crippled to die in my line of work. It’s also why I have a hard time trusting strangers or partners because a big part of me expects to be stabbed in the back as soon as people get what they want.” she said, looking around at the faces working around the campsite. “Thing is, these people have done more for me than I ever thought I’d deserve, they stayed with me when they have every right not to. I’m lucky to have them and I’m going to do everything in my power to keep them safe. I’d send them home if I could, but we have to make sure we have homes to go home to first.” she said, crouching by the fire once more and resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on bridged fingers.

“Home…” Sevari smiled wistfully, “I don’t even know what that is. Maybe I’ll find one somewhere, settle down and then drown myself in a fucking lake. As much as I want one, I don’t. I’ve been place to place my whole life.”

“I always thought drowning would be one of the worst ways to go, it kind of goes against your need to breathe air and your body fights you the entire time.” Daro’Vasora mused, looking up across the flames at Sevari. “I can honestly understand what you mean, though, about not settling down. I basically had an apartment for long enough to have an arson burn it down and I had a room at my uncle’s place in Imperial City which was kind of my base of operations between being out in the field constantly. All this camping and trudging through mountain passes is pretty much my comfort zone, I get stir crazy if I’m not out and seeing the world and following my passions. It’s just a lonely life at a times.”

“Isn’t it?” Sevari said, getting to a knee and moving the stew to the side of the fire, keeping it warm while not letting it burn itself to mush. “I’d like to settle down one day, but I don’t think I ever could. Work is what I’ve known all my life and I’m damn sure not going to rot away my last years of it shoved away in an office in some bureau.”

“I’ll probably just disappear to Valenwood and smuggle myself into Alinor. Strike at the heart of the fuckers.” He chuckled grimly. “Soup’s on. Help yourself.”

“Don’t mind if I do. Thanks for being the chef tonight… is it bad I get the impression Zaveed might actually have a knack for it?” Daro’Vasora asked, heading back around the fire and grabbing a pair of the wooden bowls and spoons. She scooped out a bowl for herself, setting it aside, and then filling another before offering it to Sevari. She sat close to him, cross-legged in the short grass and taking in the soup’s scent. 

“I don’t think you’re too old to learn new things, or change tact in your life. If that were the case, how would anyone ever retire?” Daro’Vasora shrugged, scooping a bit of the soup into her muzzle and letting it linger, quenching a thirst she had before grunting appreciatively. “Not bad. Could have used some pepper and cayenne, but as far as camp food goes, it definitely does the trick.” she had a few more spoonfuls before continuing her discussion with Sevari.

“I always wanted to see Summerset, I heard it’s beautiful. It’s too bad the people running it are anything but.” she observed, chewing through a chunk of hare. “What about starting an investigation and security company?” she asked. 

“Me? A business owner?” He snorted before shoveling a spoonful into his mouth, “You’re right, missing something. Never claimed to be a chef. But, no, the authority and legal ambiguity my organization gives me has served me well.”

He shrugged, “Maybe I’ll transfer though. I’m getting along in years and playing spy is a younger man’s game. Sick of playing coy about godsdamn everything.” He chuckled a bit, swallowing down another bit of the soup, “Could you imagine me a fucking bodyguard? If I have any more pull with the old shitheads up-top I can secure a place in investigations. With the way Cyrodiil is going to be after the Imperial City was lost?”

“It’ll be like the Law was never a thing. Gods know I’ve been an outlaw to the Dominion for long enough, the Oculatus will be begging for an Inspector like me to bring the law back. I know how criminals work.” He said, “But it’ll be the same deal as last time. My way, alone if I want.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.” Daro’Vasora observed between indelicate spoonfuls of the gruel. “Why the doubt? Figure it out as you go, take opportunities where they arise. Not everything has to be meticulously planned out.” she shrugged, finishing off her portion and setting the bowl down. Her gaze turned to Zaveed, who was perched on some stone like a gargoyle, surveying his domain. “Does your future include him, by chance? I gather you two have a long and complicated history. He seems… different than what I remember, being on the wrong side of his blades. If I didn’t know what he was capable of, I’d have mistaken him for a good person.” she murmured, resting her wrists on her knees and returning her attention to Sevari.

Sevari too looked Zaveed’s direction, perched on some stone like an arrogant prick, waiting for someone to ask him about his fancy title. But that was Zaveed, always the showman. It’s what he’d wanted of life before life showed him what it decided. He sighed, turning back to his bowl and drinking up the last of the broth, wiping his mouth on his forearm. “Something, something tradewinds take me where they want and some other bullshit is probably what he’d say to me.” He chuckled, “We’re grown men who’ve been apart and living our own lives for twenty years. I don’t see myself on the deck of a ship the rest of my life and I know damn well stepping on dry land may as well be walking on broken glass for him.”

He smiled, although something more was behind it, “We can both do our best to keep in touch, but we belong in two different places.” He turned to Sora, “What about you? On the off chance that you’re not an oracle and you survive, what next? What about the Reachman over there?”

She smiled in Latro’s direction, the Reachman keeping himself ever busy and distracted. “For what it’s worth, I hope you do. Good family’s hard to come by, I’ve come to realize in all of my travels. As for Latro and I, well, haven’t quite thought that far. I’d like to continue exploring ruins and hunting down relics and artifacts for coin and renown, but I know that’s not the life he wants. If he asks me to stay with him in the Reach, I will. If he wants to come with me, I couldn’t ask for a better companion.” her fingers drummed upon her leg in contemplation. “It can be pretty lonely on the road with no one to watch your back.” she observed quietly.

“Do you think he wants to stay?” Sevari asked, “I knew he was something else from the first time I saw him. It’s why I picked him out of everyone to snatch up first. I knew he wasn’t Dark Brotherhood because I would’ve remembered taking his fucking head off way back when, figured he was Forsworn.”

“You know they have no love for his kind in the West? I assume he told you already.” Sevari said, “Takes a certain kind of person to live with and love that. He’s loyal as a fucking dog and after what him and I’ve been through…”

Sevari nodded as Latro’s gaze fell to them. He took a break splitting firewood to wave and Sevari nodded back as the man returned to his work, “Wolves know wolves. Keep him. He’ll never fail you if you do.” His mind went to La’Vashara, “It’s not every day people like us find someone who can keep up.”

“He’s… going through a lot right now.” Daro’Vasora replied, her gaze averting for a moment, her breath heavy. “I’m willing to help share the burdens he carries, and I’m no stranger to making enemies with small minds. I’m no stranger for being feared, despised, and hated for what I am, as I’m sure you have been, too.” 

She returned her gaze, an intensity in her eyes. “He’s gone so long without anyone believing in him. I’m not going to be the one to let him down when he needs me. You doubt my resolve?”

 “‘Course not,” Sevari chuckled, “Just recognizing that it’s needed living a life like this. I’m sure you’re a saint in his eyes. I never could find someone like that, so it’s a treasure. I told Meg and Jaraleet the same. You and Latro seem more fit for each other, I’ll admit.”

“Saving each other’s asses from the Falmer tend to bring people together. Besides, I’ve a soft spot for singers.” Daro’Vasora grinned, leaning forward. “I will treasure him, always. I’ve dug all sorts of invaluable objects from ruins, never expected the most valuable find of all to be in that ruin over there.” she said, nodding towards the pillar of green light. Her expression shifted into a frown, and she shook her head. “So, what made you decide to stay with us? It seems to be outside of your jurisdiction. I’m beginning to think you like us.”

“I’m beginning to think you’ve got wishful thinking.” Sevari smirked, setting his bowl down and taking another swig from his flask, “I’m in service to the Empire’s eyes and ears. Everything is my jurisdiction.”

He sighed, leaning back on his elbow, “Helps if there’s people I like though.”

“Isn’t that the truth. Funny thing was, in the beginning, I couldn’t stand most of these people, and I’m sure the feeling was mutual. Now I’m willing to put my life on the line for them.” Daro’Vasora snorted, although a smile crept on her lips. “I think I’m okay with that.  I never really appreciated what friends were until a bunch of them decided I was worth rescuing. I have to admit, it was pretty flattering.”

“The only visitors I got was that insufferable bastard over there,” Sevari jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Zaveed, “And a scorned ex-lover whose boyfriend I was going to kill. Believe it or not, you and I shared circumstances for a minute. Wonder if they would’ve come for me.”

He shrugged, “Probably not.”

“Don't be so sure. Zaveed did toss himself at my feet, asking me to shoot him if that is what it took to earn my forgiveness so you all could coexist in peace like a maniac. I have this suspicion that he'd risk no less for you.” Daro'Vasora said, turning her gaze back to Zaveed. “For his gross amount of faults, he does at least seem to care a lot about you and Sirine. Besides,” she smiled, “I think you're one of us now. You might be surprised at what that can mean; I know I was.”

“As long as we don’t hold hands and sing songs at the fire tonight, I can live with that.” Sevari smirked, sighing, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a family. There was my old gang, whatever kind of murderous, hedonistic villainous family it was.”

“I’m glad to have gotten that last big score so they could put themselves on the shelf. The ones who weren’t put in the dirt, anyway.” He looked around at the odd company he’d set to keeping, landing back on Sora again, “No going back for any of us though. We make history or be it now.”

“No going back.” Daro’Vasora agreed with a nod, rising up to her feet. She stretched, her back cracking at the exertion. “It’s a rather strange thing, being a part of history being written; this is going to be one of those events that people hundreds, if not thousands of years, are going to look back upon with impassive eyes and not fully grasping what it all meant. I guess it’s up to us to figure out how we’re being recorded.” 

She walked up to Sevari, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for the chat, and for sticking with us. Try not to be so hard on yourself, alright?” she asked, walking away and calling out to the other’s, “Food’s up!”