She tapped a finger of her good hand to her chin. “Well, now that you mention it…” Alarm flared in Zen’s expression. “What?” “I feel something inside me. A voice, whispering to me…telling me it hungers…” Zen leaned closer. “Hungers for what?” “…for steamed pork buns,” Lan finished. The practitioner drew back, giving her a flat look. “You mock me.” “I wouldn’t dare.” “There are some topics you must not jest about.” “What, so I can become as fun as you?” Lan poked her tongue out.
