“Hey! That’s my… uh, snack!” Ming protested weakly. “I need it so I don’t starve.”

“You've got the pie hat too. What other ingredients do you have?” Malissa asked, handing the food and the bag back to Ming with a laugh. “You know, that bread would probably taste better if it was part of a dish. You don’t want stale bread, do you?”

Ming’s nose twitched. She glanced from the bread in her hand to Malissa, then reluctantly nodded.

“You’re right,” Ming admitted. “I have some mayonnaise. The spicy kind, with chili peppers. I also have some eggs. I’ve also got some packages of crackers, a few oranges, and some pea pods.”

“Are you carrying around a whole kitchen? Where are you finding space to store all of that?” Malissa asked, her mouth agape. “And how have you kept the eggs and mayonnaise from spoiling?”

“With ice,” Ming said, rolling her eyes. “And it’s not that bad. My bag still has some room left in it for extra snacks.”

“Ming,” Malissa said, struggling to keep the smile from her face, “Are you carrying anything other than food?”

“Of course I am,” Ming said with an affronted scoff. “I’ve also got my tent and my pie hat.”

“First aid kit? Healing potions? Money?”

“Gave it to Belmont, gave it to Belmont, used it all on food,” Ming said.

“You know what – I’m not even surprised,” Malissa said, shaking her head. “Look, let me use the eggs, mayonnaise, and bread. I’m going to make breakfast.”

“Arek already taught you a breakfast recipe?” Ming asked, her eyes widening as she jumped to her feet, tossing the book to her bedroll.

“Well, not really,” Malissa admitted. “But we talked about a lot of things these past few days. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed and out of place, and I think I know what I need to do to fix it.”

“Out of place? Why?” Ming asked, frowning. “You’re a great adventurer! Belmont would have a mental breakdown and I’d get arrested inside a resturant if you weren’t around. You’re the best leader we could ask for.”

“Thank you,” Malissa said, a small smile flickering across her lips. Ming’s blunt honesty was simultaneously the greatest and worst trait of the young mage. “I can’t explain it, Ming. I know we’ve been doing better recently than we ever have before, but logic just isn’t a part of this.”

“Oh,” Ming said, scrunching her nose up. Then she reached into her extradimensional bag and pulled out a jar of orangish mayonnaise and a large cloth bundle that barely fit through the opening. She handed them to Malissa. “You’re not out of place with us, Malissa. You’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” Malissa said, laughing as she took the food from Ming. “Thank you, though.”

Ming nodded sagely. They didn’t speak for a few moments. Then the mage cleared her throat. “So, when’s breakfast?”

“Whenever I finish what I’m making,” Malissa replied. “If you light the campfire for me, it’ll be faster.”

Ming was out of the tent before the other woman could finish, the bundle of staves tucked under her arm. Malissa shook her head and followed her party member out.

“Belmont?” Malissa called.

The man’s head poked out of the flaps of his tent. “What?”

“Do you have a frying pan?”

“Why would I have a frying pan?” Belmont asked. “Arek’s the chef.”

“You used to be the chef,” Malissa pointed out. “That was only a few weeks ago, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you throw away something heavy or metal.”

“It’s been repurposed.”

“Well, un-repurpose it,” Malissa said. “I need it, and something tells me you’re just using it as part of a trap.”

“What? How did you know? Did you somehow see inside my tent?” Belmont exclaimed, his head disappearing back within his tent as he searched for a possible breach in his defenses. He emerged a second later, his brow furrowed. “There aren’t any holes in the tarp.”

“It was just a guess, Belmont. Look, just give me the pan. You’ll survive without your trap. What are you using it for – a weight to drop on someone’s head if they walk in uninvited?”

“There is a breach!” Belmont breathed. He swore and grabbed something above his head, striding outside and unwrapping a rope from the handle of a heavy cast iron pan. “Seriously, how did you figure it out? If my sanctum has been penetrated, I need to know.”

Malissa took it from him and massaged her forehead. Dealing with her own problems was issue enough. However, in some perverse manner, it was almost relaxing to deal with Belmont’s paranoia. It was reassuring.

“Belmont, nobody can see inside your tent. It was just kind of… obvious. You had the pan, and you make traps out of everything you can. It’s not much of a jump to assume you attempted to weaponize our pan.”

“I’m becoming predictable,” Belmont breathed. He raised his fist to pound it into his palm, but reconsidered it – he was still wearing his heavy armor. “I must rectify this.”

Belmont disappeared back into his tent, muttering under his breath.

“Rectify it after you give me our oil as well,” Malissa called. “I know we had nearly a full bottle, so you better not have used it all lubricating the floor or something equally stupid.”

Belmont let out a tortured groan.

“Stop yelling out all my traps! Someone might hear you,” the man’s voice begged. His hand emerged from the tent holding a half full bottle of oil. Malissa took it from him and he disappeared back inside.

“What happened to Belmont?” Ming asked, placing her staff back into the bundle of sticks. A small campfire crackled behind her.

“I think I might have accidentally figured out his traps,” Malissa said. “He’s not very happy about it.”

“You only just figured them out? He’s got five main ones. He puts something heavy over the door, slicks the ground in front of it, rigs a knife –”

Malissa quickly put her hand over Ming’s mouth, muffling her words.

“Maybe don’t list them out,” Malissa suggested. “We’ve already got two people having mental breakdowns today. We don’t need to add Belmont to the list.”

“Oops,” Ming said after Malissa had released her. “That’s probably a good idea. We’ll wait until after you and Arek finish having breakdowns and then tell him. It’ll be funny.”