He eats like a wolf, cramming more and more into his cheeks until they are stuffed full to the brim. The peasant woman sighs, tsking as she adds more to his plate. The cheese is ripened to a soft goodness, melting against the bread and the mead taste clear and cool. Humming softly the ample woman takes out a blunt knife, slicing the cheese into bits, holding it out to Teyr on open palms.
"You eat like you neva' seen no food befr'. Like a beast I say, and you's a biggun too! Poor lad.."
"Be you a lost boy?" A nod.
"Ah. Then you'se grown up wild. But goodun inside. Now et. You'se best be off befor' dawn. Don't want no trouble."
Tis a fine way to return food fortune, with bad grace, Teyr thinks but slides the pies which radiate heat ad smell of meat and garlic and fruit nonetheless. The boys will be hungry, and this will bring them joy. Maybe even full stomach's for once.