Why this, why now was a popular thought--although Nahariel was almost too tired to ask herself that anymore.

Silence, and then the sound of soup being ladled, the crisp sound of crusty bread being pulled apart and placed on the desk next to him. "...I think it's root vegetables," she says of the soup. The desolation in her voice is incongruous with the subject matter. Despite the delivery being finished, she lingers, and then "I don't suppose it's too much to hope it's contagious?" She says it like a black joke, but there's an odd honesty in there as well.