Five took Tarquin’s bowl out of his waiting hands. He ate the rest of the stew only marginally more slowly than he had his own.
There was a wineskin at the bottom of Ainya’s bag, filled with more of Edonay’s tea. Tarquin would’ve preferred diluted wine or ale, but the tea was warm and sweet, and it was definitely pleasant to cup the little drinking bowl and let it heat his fingers.
Ainya had brought an extra drinking bowl for Five, along with the extra meal. Five took it from her with a decorum that was painful to watch, cradling the bowl in the ungainly net of his hands. Tarquin made a mental note to find something that would cut his claws for him, as soon as they were back at the castle.
Prea gave her two bowls and spoon back to Ainya, then rested her hands on her abdomen. “Thank you
