When a family sits together for meals, it was a good sign of a healthy and functioning unit. The same should be true of a ship's crew. Kole smiled proudly as he looked around the galley, knowing that his healthy and delicious meals were at the heart of it. Keeping a strict schedule and outlining his menu two weeks in advance also helped. But the most important ingredient to any crew's success are the people themselves, the calibre and personality. Food simply tasted better in the presence of good company.<br/><br/>Now that most of the members have milled out of the galley to do their own thing, Kole rose from his seat, taking his tray with him, dumping the leftovers into one of two large jar-shaped omnivorous plants. These<span style="font-style: italic">Cavros flytraps</span>were amazing compost boxes aboard the Hrið. Plus their twining vines on a window trellis were pretty to look at, adding that homely touch to the place on the ship that a cook spent most of his time.<br/><br/>Kole then poured the hickory sauce-based marinade he prepared earlier on the meat now thawed out. The elk steaks should be ready for barbecuing this evening after at least five hours marinading.<br/><br/>Then he nodded to Isa, knowing she'd take care to look after the mess hall and kitchen area. "Arr, I be smellin' of food, gotta hop into the hot springs and wash it all off and relax, ya?" He explained to her of his immediate plan, while hanging his apron on a wall hook. But before leaving the galley, Kole made sure to scribble "bláber butter and skreið" on the next open slot on the menu corkboard. "See ya," he winked.<br/><br/>The cook brought a clothes basket with him before entering the bath suite. He made sure the tub was misty and bubbly before slipping in to enjoy a hot and relaxing salt bath. He placed a pumice stone (excellent tool to scrub off grime and dirt with) atop his head, nestling it among his dirty blonde locks. A sort of mechanism to warn him if he should nod off to sleep. So he would be basically killing two birds with one stone: cleansing himself of food smell while napping at the same time. He would simply rest there, not thinking of anything, at least trying not to, and just enjoy the siesta after the fiesta.<br/><br/>"Need more practice," he murmured, regarding his projectile weaponry training. He preferred stun energy tactics from a distance over close contact combat. Kole was strong, what with hunting and lugging boars over his shoulders through the teen years, but lacked technique. He was strange like that, adept at hunting animals, but squeamish when it came to hurting anyone for the sake of... marking territory?<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Erguds. Valhalla help us now.</span><br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 50%; line-height: 116%;">Edit: fixed a typo.</span>