For how lithe Scarlett was, her dungeon diving pack was quite a good size with not only food rations but also a...crudely made cooking pot? Ignoring all the questions on how a being with no fingers can use such a thing because fantasy is very funny and uncaring of logic, she pulled it out and set it down over a hastily made bonfire made of sticks and dried up moss that she had gathered many hours earlier for such an occasion. A quick pouring of bottled water from Scarlett's pack into the pot for boiling and with a quick draw of breath, she breathed flames onto the dried moss pile.

This was a magic skill she had learnt in these dungeons long ago as a foal, when she wandered off too deep into the dungeons and came back with a newly gained ability that took her a few years to properly master. It was hard but worth it as it had many applicable uses in day-to-day Courser life, mostly of the asserting dominance over danger by breathing fire.

With time to kill while the water came to the boil, Scarlett would look around the nearby area to replace the moss she had used for her soon-to-be meal. It was a habit she always did whenever she used up her supplies if she could, the quicker she could replenish used items the less unprepared she would be. She has seen the skeletons of Coursers a few times, the ancient mistake of never being prepared for the labyrinths of adventures and dangers.

It was not long before the water was boiling and ready to have food dumped in, the sooty mare pulling out an even smaller pack with various ingredients to pour in for improvised soup, aptly named 'Improvised Soup' by Scarlett. She could never get tired of this, it kept her mind drawn to living in the moment. She hopes that she could start to share the moments with another.