"Such barbarism," Star says, actually looking pleased at being assigned a name. "Are healers that rare, in your world?"<br/><br/>When he awakes, the light of day is peering through the window; he's alone in the room, but a tray of food, laden with a bowl of soup that looks to be almost half a gallon, two loaves of bred, two pitchers of ale, and a decent sized melon, sits nearby. The soup is lukewarm, and he'll quickly realize that he's famished and feeling weak, almost to the point that lifting his spoon might be a challenge.<br/><br/>About an hour after he finishes, Night appears, bearing another tray of food for him, similarly weighed down. "Ah, good, you're awake. Feeling better?"