"You're God damned right, there's nothing for you to do," Rem muttered to himself, really to himself this time, as Micky walked away. He respected Mickey for his penchant for chaos, one madman to another, but the one place Mickey was NOT welcome was in the kitchen when Rem was cooking. Maybe Alpha was worse at cooking, maybe, but at least Alpha kept his paws out of the ingredients he was preparing.<br/><br/>"All the bags with veggies, keep out, and the italian sausage and the prawns..." Rem absentmindedly shook a few spices into his hand and twisted his own finger, "And a little beef couldn't go amiss." As soon as he'd washed his hands, he grabbed the prawns and started chopping heads and peeling shells. "If someone wanted to get the rice out, and start chopping up all those greens we got, It'd be greatly appreciated,<span style="font-style: italic">bon canides</span>*."<br/><br/>Rem started working into his rhythm. He wasn't all that used to having other people help him cook, having done most of the cooking for his mother and him, and eventually his previous pack, but it was welcome help if they didn't get in the way.<br/><br/>*good canines (a purposefully unusual combination of words specific to Rem's vernacular)