Cris gawked at the plate, she hadn't had meat for breakfast in quite a while. Or for any meal actually. Whatever had been in that prison gruel, it hadn't ever walked. She heaped up her bowl with as much potato as would fit, selecting some choice pieces to balance carefully on the top, forgetting herself in the sudden abundance of food. She suddenly caught herself and blinked sheepishly, returning a little, it was more than she truly needed, and stuffed her face with what remained. The food was hot on her finger tips and hotter in her mouth, in her haste she burned her tongue on the second bite, and had enjoy the rest of the meal without taste, but it was still food, nutritious and filling. Soon her shrunken belly was full, a pleasant, unfamiliar sickness spreading through her.<br/><br/>"You're welcome,” Cris turned towards the...she'd either been a devotee, or a little scatter-brained, “You healed me? Or, where you the brazier?” she shook her head, no, that wasn't it. And, there was something, burning, sizzling, sick and not the good time- “Yes I am better, I spent a night in the infirmary. It was...very special,” she breathed deeply, a hand to her swollen stomach. The obsidian angel, think of him. His sound, his scent, his words....<br/><br/>“Oh thank, thank you so much,” Cris called after Fen. She really wasn't sure how to respond to such kindness, her words, well they didn't feel like much. Maybe she could get something nice for the them, next time she was at a busy marketplace.