Drake handed over the cake and hopped up onto the cot while Darius placed the cake on a side table. "Surprisingly," he replied after he'd settled, "nothing important." All of his limbs were in working order, and Karras was always careful to avoid finishing blows to the head. He couldn't say much about his chest, though; it was entirely possible that he had a few broken ribs, but he wasn't a doctor or a mage, and it was pretty safe to say that he hurt pretty much everywhere pretty equally.
"I thought you'd like the cake," he added after a minute. "I wasn't sure how long you've been here, and I wasn't sure if you'd eaten." Faram knows he hadn't eaten since before the chocobo races. Maybe he should have kept the cake.