You had been tasked for cooking food for the Firelights. You and ten others, to be exact. The problem was, you weren’t the best cook exactly, but duties rotated around different people, and it was inevitable that you’d have to someday.

Ekko headed into the kitchen area and inhaled the smell of the food. He spotted you and walked over, leaning against the counter.

“How’s the food going?” He asked, eyeing it warily. It didn’t look the best. You simply sigh and gesture.

“Not good,” you say. Ekko grabbed a fork and poked some of the mystery meat and chewed on it. It was bad enough he could gag, and it had that taste in the throat that wasn’t that… enjoyable.

“It’s… questionable. Not bad, though,” he said untruthfully. Usually, he was blunt, but with you he tended to sugarcoat things a bit.