Several hours later, the team had ended up in Leroy's small home.
They were all crammed into his kitchen with some of them sitting on chairs, others leaning against counters.
Leroy himself stood by the stove, awkwardly stirring a pot of something that vaguely smelled like stew, and the others busied themselves by watching him with mixed expressions.
Coco sat at the table calmly, waiting for food while occasionally glancing at Leroy's clumsy cooking attempts.
After flicking Leroy in the forehead, Coco had ordered him, without raising her voice, to lead her and the team back to his house and she made sure that it wasn't a request.
The punishment was clear.
Leroy, who was still dazed from being launched into the snow earlier, could only obey.
The walk back to the city gates and to his home was silent and tense— the team following behind as Leroy shuffled toward his small home.
Now here they were, with him stuck cooking while they watched like hungry spectators.
