[Salvio listens as he works to free the stew. Listening is something he is good at--in his moments of calm, that is, when he isn't poised on the precipice of a breakdown. An office is his preferred terrain, a place of sanctuary and order. Even with all of the inherent strangeness that comes of conversing with a Rifter (often confusing, occasionally nonsensical, objectively pretty, unknown and thus slightly terrifying), he is a little more prepared to respond.]

There are, likely, lives that are in this way. In Thedas. People who--live, and work, separately. It is the nature of an organization such as the Inquisition for such spheres to intersect. I prefer it. And I think that-- that you are managing admirably, despite your-- unfamiliarity.

[Stew freed from the basket, Salvio gives it a once-over. It looks good, and it has kept warm enough in transit to still be steaming slightly. He leans in to sniff at the stew, hopefully. It smells good, too. Good signs.]

I am not one to complain about food. Ever.