[ Ramir looks a little delighted by the prognosis — although she's pretty sure Olivia would say that regardless of how it tasted. Still! It's nice to hear. She pulls up her own plate and nudges out one of the chairs from the little table with a foot, for Olivia. ]

Nice. Turns out it's kinda fucking hard to figure out 'cake' without the internet, but... [ Around a mouthful: ] Yeah, that's not bad.

[ She takes a seat herself at the other chair, but digs in with slightly less gusto than she might usually, mostly so she can glance up with her question: ] Also, hey, I meant to ask — how're things going?

[ In the Achilles department, she means, but she'll start general and narrow it down from there. ]