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Ask the Kumiho
The pause did betray some resistance to answering what she thought was a perfectly legitimate reason. Though Ahri could only speculate as to why Irelia seemed so uncomfortable in answering - the most likely suspect being that the Captain could not, in fact, cook - she supposed it would be fine. She opened her mouth to reassure her companion that she couldn't either, and that restaurants did offer home delivery, but Irelia quickly blew her only theory out of the water. "Okay." Ahri sealed her lips together tightly, suddenly incredibly glad that she had saved herself from a situation that would have been, potentially, very embarrassing.
When the Ionian again repeated herself, decidly reinforcing the fact that Ahri had been wrong, she wondered if Irelia was a mind reader. Her gaze diverted, towards the pictures once again as her fingers came to rest on who she guessed was the father. Is? Was? She laughed to herself quietly. Not in death, but in life one would find peace. The fox wondered if it would be prudent of her to ask about Irelia's family; the little she knew from the League was not enough to sate her curiosity. She shook her head - that would be for another time.
She turned and clasped her hands behind her back, her head tilted and a wide grin painted across her countenance. "Anything," Ahri answered, running her tongue along her teeth. "Anything you desire," she tilted her head, then laughed a little more brazenly this time. "I trust the skill you have with your hands."