Swiftcurrent Creek I keep you warm and won't ask you where you've been

His question softens her further, though she shakes her head; there's really nothing he can do for her current affliction. She finds her nausea fading by the second anyway, replaced by something much more intense — hunger. Her gaze settles past him for a moment on the abandoned hare, then drifts back to his dark features. Is that for me? She inquires softly, lacking the shame she might normally feel; the last few dead things he's brought have been for her, and she's suddenly starving. She can't even find it in herself to care that she'll likely vomit it back up in a few minutes.