<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"Yeah, best to hunt at night. I think. We are still to hear what sort of thing it is this time. The only good info I got so far is that its something that is bothering the locals, A.K.A. I got nothing. Bothering the locals is the most generic description they could give us, and it explains precisely squat."</span>She said, half absent while her eyes searched for some sort of kiosk with any of the local cuisine.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000"> "Our job is not to question, though. Yet I am entirely sure our efficiency would be higher if they gave us some pre-research ground to steady our feet. I did read local legends, but as far as  that goes, it could mean from children-eating shape-shifters to a roaming fireball of literal hate. They also have a weird thing for angry and bitter old women turned rampant spirits. Also, the date-rape river dolphin. Yeah, I was surprised such thing could be turned into a legend too."</span><br/><br/>Her eyes caught sight of a small stand that was serving food, some sort of local delicacy that could be explained as "Something something, deep fried." Surely it was something unhealthy and most likely made for tourists, but Faria had a true curiosity about learning the local culture and customs, especially when it came to dining.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"Dos <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.mycolombianrecipes.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2014%2F01%2FEmpanadas-041.jpg&amp;hash=8315c237995e7a86974ea4314758e91c" href="https://www.mycolombianrecipes.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/Empanadas-041.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Empanadas de carne</a>, por favor."</span>She asked, her accent being enough to mark her as a tourist, but not badly enough that she would be taken as someone from another latim speaking country. Now armed with a couple of pastry-looking finger food, she gave one to her partner, gesturing her to both eat, and walk as they went their way to not waste the contact's time and patience.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"Well, you take the shower first, I call shotgun on the minibar, though." </span>She stated, trying her damn best to carry the luggage with one hand, while still dealing with a mouthful of hot meat that menacingly tried to make an oven of her mouth. The spice was as rich as she expected, if not hotter from the time she had been away from that cuisine. Yet, she was pleased.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"Nap all you want. I will arrange dinner for when you wake up. Deal? Here's to hoping that our target is not something urgent or dangerous."</span>She said, taking a moment to realize that such words could take a different meaning to her life long partner.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"I will find something tasty for us tonight, agreed? Its my treat."</span>Her words were true and gentle, with honest desire to pamper Tatiana a bit, as to distract her from a work-focused life.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"Well, I input the password, technically its the council's treat. Not that a dinner would bankrupt them or anything."</span>