I take the smallest half step back when the fresh oil he adds begins to spit a little, I'm a bit more resilient than most of the human variety, but heat is heat, and hot oil is especially hot. I know, I've had a few experiences with it before I gave up on trying to cook anything that needed it.

"I like that about him, though." I say, somewhat absentmindedly, focusing on how Basco seems to be scooting the vegetables away from me in the pan. My brow scrunches up a bit, and my stomach gives a small growl. "Everything on his time. How a captain should behave."

Finally I give in, holding Basco still by his arms for a brief moment (he's slight enough, I think I can manage) and then reaching around his other side. I snake a bit of tasty looking vegetable from the pan and pop it in my mouth, eyes closing after as I hum and chew happily. It's good, savory and spicy, and I lick my fingers after to get that lingering bits of flavor off them.