[He wishes he had a glass of wine, but instead he contents himself with inhaling the scent of the meal he's prepared, taking apart each smell, following it down to its components. He smells her, too.]
Something always happens, Abigail. The best we can hope for is preparation.
[He cocks his head.] How do you intend to prepare? For something.
spam
Something always happens, Abigail. The best we can hope for is preparation.
[He cocks his head.] How do you intend to prepare? For something.