disclaimer: Final Fantasy XV and it's characters (c) SQUARE ENIX
DINNER IS SERVED
Ignis had a hard time knowing his surroundings, no! Not knowing - remembering.
He had to remember where everything was located, when and where it was moved and be prepared to trip and bump and stumble upon things that were relocated without his knowledge.
He listened really closely where his comrades were at all times. He tried to match the new pieces of information with what he remembered from before.
Before he was blinded.
It wasn't their first time when they ate cold rations – the unappetizing tin-can food which looked like regurgitated vomit - and the gloomy atmosphere wasn't so new either. It was, however, finally taking the toll on all of them.
Ignis could hear the faint scraping of three sporks against the tin-cans.
Oh, what a pitiful cacophony that was.
Gladio was more attacking his meal than eating it. Jabbing the brownish sludge with such a force that it was surely making a literal dent in the bottom of the metal can. He was angry, half-rightfully so.
Noctis, as every royalty, didn't hit his utensils against the can - Just as he couldn't make any sound while stirring his tea or coffee. However, Ignis could hear his displeased sighs every time he took another bite of the pulp.
At first Prompto tried to make small-talks to lighten the mood, but all of his jokes and puns fell flat.
His voice faltered.
Eventually the gunslinger silenced completely and focused his efforts in loathsome, constant stirring of the tinned mush as if the motion would improve it's taste. The blond stuffed a mouthful of the food to muffle a teary sob.
Ignis missed his cooking regime. He missed the happy slurping, hasty clanking of utensils against dishes and untactful burping. All grunts, oh's, ah's and I'm fulls that still had enough room for desserts and coffee.
The blind man sighed heavily - he just came up with a new recipe for a chocolate dessert that he would never make.