Lucien heads to the front desk to book a room for the night, digging through his pockets for the last of his loose coin, when Serenith's stomach growls. Loud enough, sudden enough, that a passing server actually turns to look.
"You okay?" he asks, glancing up.
"No," she says flatly, arms crossed, hovering a foot off the ground with the particular stillness of someone holding onto their patience by a thread. "You've been so busy plowing through an entire brothel's worth of beast-kin that you've completely, thoroughly neglected my dietary needs. I haven't eaten a proper meal since this morning."
He gasps, stricken, both hands flying to his chest. "I am so sorry. I've been distracted."
"You're always distracted. Especially around pretty women. It's practically a permanent condition at this point."
"To be fair, Val did consume an entire kitchen. I barely ate either."
"Feed me!"
