Campanella's eyes did not leave Avis face as she spoke.
"Alright then," a defensive note of certainty lingering in his voice.
Then another sigh - a deep one one as the tension was forced from the Alchemist's body. Clapping his hands together he moved toward the plates.
"Well then. Breakfast it is then."
The gourmand eyed the hash and - perhaps oddly - didn't seem at all phased by the state of the sausages. He collected a plate, utensils, and found a place to eat while the conversation flowed around him. He took advantage of a natural pause in the flow to add his own voice:
"You might say I've come home. There was a successor Cabal to the Veiled Threats."
Hash was shovelled gloriously into his mouth.