What an odd answer. Jayati considered leaving it at that thought and her curious eyebrow but then couldn't resist adding in a dry, "That's very zen if you."
Personally she thought haggis was pretty bizarre in comparison to birds nest soup, but she was biased considering that it was her region of the world that made the latter and it seemed to have more to back it up. "I'll tell you what, you bring me the stuff and I'll make it for you. It's been a minute but I'm sure I still can." Jayati had been both guard and cook of their makeshift village in the Himalayas, and traveling with Lalita.
She gave a low whistle, "You might even be beating me then, I came, oh, twenty years after the Vietnam War I think?" She scratched her chin, trying to remember exactly. Things from that period were a little fuzzy and even more bloody than the war itself, as her mind reeled from the loss.
Her hands reached back out to the fire, reaching out to kick a branch back into the fire after it tumbled out onto the sand. "That's smart. My wife and parents were killed by humans." Plain as day, and she meant it as genuine compliment.