Kane has made himself a sandwich. In fact, he has made two sandwiches, as he is large and hungry. ... He'll hand her half of one, though, because she is small and often hungry as well.
Xion sat on the box next to Kane. Her legs crossed under her, her knee bumping against his thigh. A janitor had passed them five minutes ago otherwise they were in solitude. It was a small space, sequestered away in a back hallway of the arena. A haven from the noise and lights, from the roar of the crowd. The dim lights shadowed Kane’s mask, hiding his eyes. He leaned back against the wall, hair tossed across his face. He heaved deep breaths, low but even, steadying. One hand reached over and grabbed at his gear bag. He withdrew a lunchbox from inside.
Xion eyed Kane as he offered her half of one of his two sandwiches. She ate dinner earlier with ‘Taker, whose match they were now missing. Hunger was a constant gnaw for her, however. Between magic and growing and moving, her body needed a lot of fuel. She was sure Kane understood, there was a lot of him to feed. She unwrapped her half and inspected it: mustard, mayo, roast beef, lettuce, cheese, and pickles. No dissection this time, she sunk her teeth into rye bread and lunch meat.
Her hand lifted to her mouth as she finished chewing: “Do you feel better?”
