Ireta: Inalia, thank the gods you’re finally here. Can you go check on the stew? And make sure to spice it heavy, they tend to prefer that sort of thing.
Renad Man: Hey, what are you presuming about us? That we all like spicy stuff because we’re Renad?
Ireta: That is precisely what I’m assuming. I can go dig up some plain bread, if that’s more to your taste.
Renad Man: Hah! You got me. I’ll stick with the stew.
Ireta: That’s what I thought.
Inalia: Oh, sure! Sorry, but I gotta go. You said your name was Keta, right?
Keta: That is my name, yes. You are Inalia?
Inalia: Yeah. Well, I’ll, um, catch you later?
Keta: I suppose. Or, perhaps, if you’re making stew then maybe I could help you? I often help my mother in cooking for the family, and I know what spices we Renad prefer.
Inalia: Mom? Can she help?
Ireta: What? Oh, do you know how to cook, girl?
Keta: I do. My dad’s a cook, in fact.
Ireta: Well maybe I should be dragging him back here. Yes, Inalia, she can help. Now go!
