<span style="color: #0080FF">"Its the smart way to go about it."</span>Tarrok pointed out.<span style="color: #0080FF">"Better to be a hundred percent on it, not waste good meat."</span><br/><br/>Neither of them would have impressed anyone with table etiquette, in all likelihood. Tarrok was probably making leaps and bounds for his species using something that wasn't his hands. As it was, he sliced the meat quickly and made it disappear even faster. Thus far, Aiko had yet to cook a poor meal in her time aboard.<br/><br/>Speaking of chicken breast, Aiko had yet to put on a shirt. Good thing he hadn't said that kind of word play out loud, or he'd smack himself in the face. Maybe if he was lucky, she wouldn't notice him turning even redder. Tarrok tried using a napkin to hide his face briefly.<br/><br/>Tarrok's white tail splayed out on the cushion between the two of them. All shock white and coarse, shaggy fur calmly laying out. Discretely, it sought hers out and laid next to it. Even this part of them, so similar, looked so totally different.<br/><br/>Tarrok wondered, briefly, where he'd be without her. Same as he was before, in all probability. Grim, murderous work day in and day out. Alive, definitely, but not much of a life by itself. What would be of him if he lost her was something that he was going to avoid thinking too hard about.