Without you, what would a poor boy do?

Audril regards Eloise pensively. "This is new."

"What is?"

She's currently preoccupied being very obvious in her struggle between self-discipline (she knows she shouldn't have another lahmajoon, they've only just made them) and embrace of creature comforts (what else is food for but eating? the longer these stick around, the longer it'll be until they cook together again), and Audril very nearly loses their train of thought. This sight, at least, is wonderfully familiar.

But still: "I don't feel...guarded."

"Maybe I've let my guard down," Eloise answers through a mouthful of meat and spices.

That's certainly part of it.