Work had always been Eight's answer to dealing with stress. It was something to occupy the mind and the hands when the heart was roiling. Even better, the task was food, which had a good payout when everything was said and done.

Yet there were many that hadn't appeared during the regular scheduled meal session. Though Eight would normally just let that slide, considering the events of everything... she was worried. So, she had taken it upon herself to cart a small tray of dishes into the sleeping cabins.

She stopped at one such door of a very tired and weary bird and gave it a soft knock.