[Ah.... Dimitri pauses for a moment, and his mind feels elsewhere. Not in the bright lights and crowded streets of a Kanto festival, with its brilliantly patterned yukata and music constantly playing. Rather, on colder paths leading into the mountains where all was hard dirt and unforgiving rock and bitter snow. Where he could look back and see, nestled amidst the deathly white, fragile homes standing strong against the winter.]

...Faerghus is much the same, and we have rarely had a chance to focus on such matters, always beset upon by war as we were. It seems, in some respects, we may be similar, then.

[Obviously he wasn't kidnapped to a whole other country as a kid - that he knows of, his life can't be THAT miserable - but still. The places where they grew up.]

In that respect, I've always liked strips of dry meat, and jerky. You know, that which manages to last quite well on long journeys? It has quite a good chew.