Food-? Ah, yes, he supposed he should eat. He picked up his fork, shoved the food around his plate a little and took a small bite. One thing Fera was good for: getting him to eat. It seemed whenever he ate anything, his stomach only ended up feeling nauseaous, and therefore he avoided it at all costs. That aside, his clawed-up back was killing any tiny bit of appetite he might've otherwise had.
At some point, he stood and excused himself to wander up to the bar, asking for a pencil and something to write on. He returned to the table, sat back down, and started scribbling out a note for his sister informing her they were going to the church and would be back before nightfall. That gave them all day, and hopefully she wouldn't try to follow since he was politely requesting that she stay behind this time.
Oh boy, she was gonna kill him later.
