I watched RÃ¦ven tear apart the deer with slight disdain, but even uncooked, it looked<span style="font-style: italic">good</span>. My stomach growled, echoing years of missed meals. I pulled more sticks from the surrounding wood, made an impromptu spit, and hung the meat over it when RÃ¦ven cut it. When the animal was cooked I handed pieces out to everyone. There was more than enough for everyone to stuff themselves, but something trickled into the back of my memory. "We need to be careful," I said. "I think we should eat just a little more than what they were giving us. Eating to much when you haven't had enough for a long time gets you really sick."  My thoughts also hovered over Imogen for a moment. Imogen, who wouldn't be eating anything right now. Unable to stop myself, though, I grabbed my hunk of meat and plunged my teeth into it without waiting for a response. I hoped I could follow my own advice.