"Mm." Raju tries to make a face — of all the bizarre impossibilities they face down in this place, the ridiculous ones are still the hardest to take — but he feels Francis' fingers moving across his knuckles like they're lighting something up under his skin, so he smiles faintly, in spite of himself. "It spits them out though, doesn't it? You really want your food from there?"

Then he sighs, thinking about it seriously. "I was never much for cooking, though. It was never a priority. I wouldn't have the first clue how to make any of it now." His smile starts to shift slowly into a distant frown. It hadn't seemed important. He supposes he'd been assuming he'd be able to enjoy things like that... later. Some time later. If he survived the efforts he's obligated to go back to long enough to earn it.

Better not to think about any of that too closely. Luckily he still has this bandage to finish wrapping. Unluckily, he's almost done with it. At least that's going to make Francis feel a little better. "Some kind of chillies, maybe? Chilli powder. Or ginger. But it wouldn't matter without knowing what else to put in it. We'd be better off asking for bread, or fruit."