Logan's POV
I make a show of cutting a small piece of the food before me, bringing it to my lips. The aroma is rich, gamey. If I were still alive, I'd be all over this, stuffing my face and washing it down with sweet wine. I love to eat and my career as an athlete required the high protein so it's always worked out for me.
But after Alfheim and now this, I won't be eating in the afterlife until my time actually comes. For now, I subtly let it fall into the pouch on my lap, hidden by the table's edge. I repeat the motion a few times, my heart hammering a frantic drum against my ribs. I push the food around my plate, creating the illusion of a starved soul enjoying a meal.
Fenrir helps by pretending to chew. He's making the sloppiest, mot disgusting chewing sounds that even Hel can't help but wince. I toss another forkful into the pouch, bowing to hide my smile as I 'chew.'
