Phaing leaps from the bed and stretches, eyeing the fellow with the food. "Put it on the table." She says, shaking herself out, and then; "Hey, eyes up here me, I don't like it when people who bring me food can't look me in the eye ... especially in a place like this. And-"
She stops, staring at the platter, and splutters; "By the un-hairy balls of Orcus, all that is for me? Seriously, where am I supposed to put it all?"
She glances down at her small waist and shrugs at him... and then rolls her eyes as her own tummy starts to growl like a grumpy kitten.
"Alright, I know the routine. You slaves pile on the portions in the hope that there will be enough left over to keep yourselves alive." She holds up a hand if he starts to protest, and smiles. "Relax, I've been there too. Let's cut to the chase; take half that meat and have it yourself, and wash it down with some of what's in that mug."
If he hesitates, she asks; "You did say it came from Lady Arachne, didn't you? Come now, do this for me and you will get a better share." She takes a seat and dips a little of the bread into the soup.
"What is your name, by the way?"
If life is a gift... what happened to the receipt?