"You're hurting," she says, quietly. "I make good food because people feel better when they have good food. Feeding people is what I do, to help them hurt less." To make the world a little brighter, and the night a little less cold. "It's how I identify myself, as a feeder of people."

"You're no less deserving, no matter what else you've done."

She just can't feed him. It leaves her at a loss for what to do. Now she knows how Con felt, a little, when he despaired over being unable to feed her, his guest, because he kept no human food in his earth-place.