As for himself, Roland wasn't feeling too bad. His head was full of poetry, his belly was full of meat, and he had a journey with his comrades to look forward to when the night came. All in all, that was about as good as it got for someone like him, who'd lost hope of even seeing his homeworld restored again. Little things meant a lot to someone who'd lost almost everything.

A quick glance as he walked in told him that his room mate was enjoying some steak, which was fine with Roland. It wasn't like he'd be enjoying his own, after all. Instead he stretched out on his bed, offering a slight smile. "Are you doing well?"