Makka leans more heavily against Victor's leg, wooing again. There's a lulling quality to her voice, still low enough now not to draw undue attention. Victor, for his part, takes a bite of fish, commenting offhand after swallowing, "Manners."

Makka cocks her head to the side and promptly sits down. The thump of her rump on the ground produces a flicker of a smile on Victor's lips, and he tears a piece of fish off with his teeth, carefully managing both the rest of the skewers and the one he'd he'd bitten into in order to transfer that piece of fish down to Makka. She takes it with a delicate pinch of her front teeth, then promptly tosses it up, snaps it out of the air, and swallows it down.

"Aren't there always? The concern is more in finding the guides or the defenders to pay to make sure they arrive. Krimnos is only as well supplied as the merchants keep it, after all." And not every larder stays well stocked in non-perishables.