<span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff">"Hmm, I've never minded cooking. Its peaceful, when you have the proper resources to make something good." He'd been living off cheap take-out and cheaper instant dinners the last while. Bad for his body, better for his financial state. His thin body, and showing ribs would probably cause a bit of a fuss with the doctor, later.</span></span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff"><span style="font-size: 15px">At the mention of his statement, Siv grimaces. Hes not entirely sure why, probably a mix of reasons. The top being he didn't like talking about his experiences, nor had had to speak about them to anyone before. Or he was just emotionally constipated and slightly overwhelmed. <br/>
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Shifting uncomfortably, Siv gives a nod. "I'm not entirely sure how this works... do I just start speaking, or...?"</span></span></span>