Wren of course insisted on feeding Rowan his omelette, which was much larger than it looked at first glance. He would have assumed the mountain of eggshells that he'd seen were for two omelettes, but no…Wren was neither concerned with practicality nor the limited space in Rowan's stomach.
Rowan didn't even bother pretending to argue with him this time, because he knew he would never win. And he didn't want to win, anyway.
He simply allowed Wren to stuff almost the whole thing into him, bite by bite, until he was so full he thought he might never need to eat again.
He'd survived poison and creatures and Death himself. A little indigestion from eating too much was nothing at all if it meant keeping Wren happy.
"You are a much better cook than I am. I can't believe you learned how to do that in one try." Rowan leaned back, hoping to make room in his stomach so he could breathe more easily. "I feel totally inadequate…maybe *you* should be called the Caretaker from now on."
