"You've forgotten two," He informed her briskly, looking up from the half-carved hilt lying on the bench. It was beautiful, milk-white and polished as smooth as a clamshell, whorling, half-finished carving and— he looked up.

"And...I..." He petered off— what had he meant to say? Something admonitory, no doubt, and it had probably been a little clever, but he couldn't quite remember what. Bother, why did she have to be so intense all the time? Nevermind, he pressed the tray of spice-goo at her. He'd take his meals without, thank you, and she needed it more that Ben, "Eat. It'll do you no good to work until your strength runs out."