If there was one thing that could be counted on, like clockwork, every morning - it was the sound of Karma's stomach rumbling, rousing the party from their slumbers.

Karma didn't know why she was embarrassed about it anymore, maybe she was just nervous because she felt like she ate a lot. She ate regularly: three to four times a day, depending on meal size and their current dungeon situation. What she had noticed, however, was that Pandora ate very little - if at all - and that seemed to be the source of Karma's discomfort with mealtime in general. The puck had a strange habit of pulling strange weeds and plants from the cave walls, and chewing them as they went. Rarely did the other courser reach into her pack to eat something that actually appeared edible, and if she did it was in relatively small amounts. For someone with so much energy, Karma thought she would be eating far more than she was. Was that concern? Surely not.

And, truthfully, Pandora didn't seem phased. She stopped, patiently, every time Karma slowed and allowed her to eat. Never stared at her for too long, ushered her to move her hooves, or made her feel uncomfortable. Sometimes, Pandora disappeared into the dank and came back with some strange new artifact or plant. Karma found herself appreciating the gesture and time to clear her head - it helped the two of them maintain a careful balance that had so far lasted three days.

"You're not hungry?" Karma asked finally, coming to stand some distance behind the puck.

Pandora had her head buried in some rubble, scrabbling around. "Nah." Her mouth sounded full, but Karma couldn't tell what she was doing under there. "I'm not really regular like you, girlie."

Karma wasn't entirely sure what 'regular' meant. "Right. You, uh, ready to get out of here, then?"

"Jus' a second."

"Alright."