Pocking at the bowl of mushroom stew, Jeremy made a disgusted, resigned face as he lifted a spoonful of it and swallowed without chewing. Making a face, he looked to Oliver with a bitter, playful look. "Ser. Couldn't you have sworn fealty to someone not in the Vallies? Mushroom stew, mushroom pie, mushrooms themselves. I can't remember what good food tastes like anymore."
"Shut it." Oliver said, taking a spoonful, trying to hide his own dissatisfaction with the food, "You're lucky I managed to find a Lord who would even feed us in the first place. Or do you want to go back to nibbling tree bark when I couldn't hunt a rabbit or find an inn?" Jeremy looked at the bowl and took another spoonful; it had a reply of its own.
