A Different Battlefield - Part 3

"So, who's the box for?" Greeves pressed. "I ain't hungry. You've clearly eaten. Unless you're thinking to fatten yourself up like a bear before winter?"

"No. Obviously not. I'm not a bear," Nila said. She strode across the room, denying Greeves the rest of his teasing, and presented it to Oliver, with her face turned away, as if it couldn't have meant less to her. But Oliver could see her hand shaking. Nervousness, he hoped, rather than fear. "If you haven't eaten already, Oliver… You can have it."

"Thanks," Oliver said, taking it off her.

Then she fled like a squirrel, having achieved her task.

Greeves sighed, now that his game was over. "Well, it looks like everyone is here, finally… No thanks to Felder turning up late. If you'd left us waiting any longer, it would have been dark outside. Anyone else that you want to include, Ser Patrick? What about that Jorah?"