In that case, I must be mistaken. [A chuckle passes from his throat, a clever accent to his innocent lie. Stirring any degree of conflict over a measly box, to him, was foolish, especially when Yuuna had shown him nothing but kindness in the past. His days of waging war were long over.

He turns to the shelves and stands on his toes, plucking free a few packages of pasta and stowing them into his pack. Only then does he recall that he sent his familiar out to hunt for meat for the ice chest. Blue eyes find her again, this time apologetically.] I fear I must take my leave, Yuuna. My fellow will soon return from his hunt and will miss me before long.