The book parts from her grasp easily—something on Cuisine in the North, unimportant to her in general except that Cedric needed her help. She's led, eminently biddable, to the desk and the plate, and when she sits and looks at it... She could not be further from hunger.

The pang hurt, yes; she needs to eat, yes; but to actually do it— She looks at the plate and feels not desire but a faint disgust. It's a new experience, an unfamiliar sensation: sometimes you get so hungry, you circle right back around to not hungry at all.

She makes a face, picks up the fork, eats dutifully in silence, sips her tea with all the jolly enthusiasm of a recruit mucking out latrines. At the corner of the desk sits a pile of books, the top a collection of Dalish myths and legends, various treatises on the nature and origins of darkspawn below, a chantry brother's history of the Deep Roads on the bottom. Each book already has numerous scraps sticking out of the pages, markers for interesting information and passages to return to.

Ness has been returned from Sarrux's Pass for less than a week.

Plate cleared, she wipes her mouth with a handkerchief and looks over to Cedric. Her eyes can't linger on him long, gaze glancing off his face, shoulders curled in.

"Thank you for the meal. I didn't realize how hungry I was."