"You're absolutely horrible!"
With a harrumph, Severa spun on her heel, her long hair smacking Morgan's face as she turned. Storming out of the tent, she didn't give a single glance back.
Rubbing his nose, gazed thoughtfully at the soup covering the fool. "Well that could have gone a bit better."
The evening had started fairly enough. Having been assigned dinner duty together, Morgan and Severa had filed into the mess tent to begin preparation for the company's meal. After their last conversation, Severa had decided that her cooking had improved enough to warrant the main course for tonight's dinner. And since he valued his life, Morgan had cheerfully agreed.
"I'll get these potatoes peeled." Leaning against the counter, Morgan pulled up a burlap sack, efficiently prepping the vegetables for the soup while Severa heated the water and tossed the meat into the pot. The two worked in comfortable silence, at first only speaking to tell one another that another ingredient was ready to be tossed into the soup.
Soon enough, the bubbling water began to take on a savory aroma, filling the kitchen with its smell. Morgan nodded to himself. This was good. Little troubles and no mentions of his and Severa's last blow out about the quality of her cooking.
However, the peace didn't last long. Just as he'd taken off his apron and set it on the counter, Severa slammed a bowl of their soup in front of him, scowling as she did. Palming a spoon into his hand, she huffed through her nose before speaking. "Well? Aren't you going to taste it?"
Smiling, Morgan spun the silverware between his fingers. "I suppose I can. Since I helped, it should taste great." Ignoring Severa's slightly fuming expression, Morgan dipped his spoon into the soup, blowing on it before taking a cautious sip.
No sooner had he taken a taste he coughed. Dropping the spoon, he clung to the counter for a brief second before coming to his knees. By this point Severa was beside herself, on the floor next to him, asking Morgan what was wrong.
Weakly coughing, Morgan clutched at his chest, looking Severa dead in the eyes. "It. It.. It needs more salt."
He watched as Severa's concern morphed to rage, and he scrambled to his feet before she had the chance to impale him with the spoon he'd dropped. Where he'd been moments before a spoon stuck upright from the floor. Wondering if he'd taken his joke to far, he edged behind the counter, trying to stay out of Severa's range.
No sooner had he done so, a metal pot came flying towards him, and he ducked, narrowly escaping. The pot landed with a clang, and a gush of soup seeped across the ground. An odd silence fell, and Morgan was stuck frozen as Severa approached him.
She grabbed him by the collar, and he wondered for a brief moment if someone would find him knocked out next to a puddle of soup. But the hit never came. Instead, Severa gave a sigh that would have put her mother to shame and simply settled for calling him horrible. As she left, Morgan debated chasing after her, only to remember that dinner was in an hour, and now they had no food.