I-I'll be fine with just every few weeks. But if we keep having to fight, I... I'll need more. Light, I hate it. I hate this, I hate--

[His throat closes up as he fights back what is certainly tears, but he's not sobbing, not yet.]

It hurts like nothing else. Praying doesn't... make it better. When you're lying alone, starving in every sense of the word, even a moment's reprieve is worth a king's ransom.