You've been refusing to eat since Daniel left you in the shed. You've got your puppy pads, you shouldn't be worried about processing the food. The reasoning doesn't matter, what does is that now you're one more critter for him to feed. He wants to give you his full, undivided attention— so you come last, after every other animal. What could be your attempt at being stubborn only further fuels his obsession. You need him to survive. Maybe you're even doing this intentionally so he'll take care of you.

He's sweaty, covered in mud when he comes to greet you. But the food on the plate looks edible. Enough. If not, plain. He hums when he crouches in front of your sat form, his free hand tracing over your jaw; it's almost sweet. Like he's trying to recreate how a husband should act.

"Behave, okay? I'd hate for you to go without eating... Even longer."