Zavros paused only to ensure that each soldier received a knapsack of some small foodstuffs as they left. He'd promised them they'd be fed, after all, and a few apples and potatoes here and there weren't too much to part with. Yet as he waited for them to leave, he turned back to his parents...<br/><br/>...only to realize that the grumbling of the stomach that he expected to hear wasn't there.<em>I don't need to breath OR eat?</em>he wondered.<em>First one's handy. Where's the fun in the second!?</em>But he reasoned that there wasn't any reason to<em>not</em>eat anything...and Ma's cooking was always the best, hands down.<br/><br/>"I'll take supper, Ma," he said gently. His voice hardened slightly. "Then I'll go into town, and look into these other folks. If there's others like me...well." He patted the hammer by his side. For such a humble thing, it was already proving its worth. His master had poured his passion into it, after all. "Maybe I can help make things better with 'em. I'll at least give it an honest go. All I can do, really."