In a cave full of strangers and monsters, something like cooking could be a wonderful way for Will to escape. There was the possibility that the river would be a place he'd not be so keen to venture back to in a hurry. The memories of his death were playing over and over, in the back of his mind- No, a new hobby would be a good start, a good way to heal.

"If it's no bother, of course." Happy to take lessons, Will took it upon himself to edge closer. Pulling himself up to sit on the countertop across from where Hannibal was busy at the stove.

"I hope I never master the art of dying... Now that I know for certain, people can and do come back... I don't want to have to go through that again." Rubbing his head, then touching his chest, Will looked a little unsure, maybe just paranoia? After all, he'd heard tales of people coming back changed and tampered with in some way...