At another point in his life, Ignis might have laughed. Now, after ten years of daemonblight, he'd done that math too many times to discount it. How much longer would supplies hold out? Could he trust anything he found not to be poisoned? Would he rather risk it or severely ration what was left to reach an actual settlement with supplies? Instead of laughing, a twist of his lips in the not-quite-smile of negative reminiscence showed briefly. "Indeed. That would be anything in these kitchens. I make sure of it. I don't recommend eating meat raw, but short of that you'll do fine."

After a few moments of consideration, Ignis moved to start putting together a few of the sandwich-like items he'd offered to Vax'ildan the previous day. A flat steamed bun folded over pork belly with some greens and cucumber - simple enough, nutritive enough, and it could be carried away at need. "Right now, you'll try this."