Reinhard's hands trembled as he lifted the spoon. The soup's warmth spread through the metal, into his palm, up his arm. He brought it to his lips slowly and drank it before feeling the taste explode across his tongue.
It was rich, savory, and an absolute delight that made him shiver. The spoon went into the soul once more before he lifted up and placed it back into his mouth.
He continued this cycle in a frantic manner, pushed by both hunger and how good the soap tasted.
The bread came next, which was soft and warm. He tore pieces and stuffed them in his mouth between spoonfuls of soup, shivering in delight at the taste.
He even tried mixing the bread with the soap, and his eyes lit up from how good it tasted together, not even caring about the crumbs falling on the blanket.
