[He really... really did not wish to take her compliment. What he seems to have done here is so far beyond "foraging"... but. Fine. She will not keep arguing semantics in order to praise his cooking skills. Besides, the more he puts in her reach... the harder it is for her to resist reaching. The smell is fragrant in her sensitive nose, and as he says... after losing as much blood as she had, after her body had done the work of months' worth of healing in minutes... both of her stomachs are grumbling for nutrients.
... So she bows her head, slightly, murmuring,]
My thanks.
[For the healing and the food.
Which she starts to eat with guarded intensity, wielding the still-somewhat-foreign fork with some clumsiness. Mushrooms, "salad", grilled nuts... she is slow, admittedly still weak, but. It's good. It tastes very good.
So he's going to have to forgive her if she essentially just hunkers down and begins to stuff her face.]
no subject
... So she bows her head, slightly, murmuring,]
My thanks.
[For the healing and the food.
Which she starts to eat with guarded intensity, wielding the still-somewhat-foreign fork with some clumsiness. Mushrooms, "salad", grilled nuts... she is slow, admittedly still weak, but. It's good. It tastes very good.
So he's going to have to forgive her if she essentially just hunkers down and begins to stuff her face.]