They kept fidgeting.

He could see them out of his peripheral, the restless adjustment from one resting position to another in the span of a couple minutes. He could also hear the occasional huff, discomfort and frustration as they moved.

Tech's eyes flicked to the window. The curtains, heavy and made of thick material, were tightly drawn enough that the sun couldn't pierce through ㅡ and it'd be dark soon enough.

Then he wondered if maybe they'd woken up too soon ㅡ it did feel a little early for them to be moving around. Another frustrated position change, and he set down his book. "There's clearly an issue," he said, "if you were forthcoming with what it is, we can resolve it andㅡ"

He caught the look on their face and stopped. He knew that look, even if they didn't say it. Oh.

They were hungry.