When Tuck had arrived at Patrick's expecting to be part of the search, Francis had banished him to kitchen duty. And while Tuck was sure that he would have been fine, he didn't mind Francis being protective. Cooking healthy meals for quite a large amount of people was something he was good at anyway, so he had made it his goddamn mission to feed people up while they did the heavy lifting.
Tuck had pulled Patrick aside, just to quietly mention that David himself hadn't eaten anything in days. Patrick had just sort of nodded and explained David was an ascetic and tended to opt for more traditional forms of freaking out - praying and fasting.
Which Tuck accepted for a while, but it was edging near the end of the second day, and the last thing anyone needed was a fainting saint. He grabbed a plate and sliced up some of the bread Patrick had said David would eat. Then he fetched some water as well, and headed out to the garden where David was kneeling.
"David," Tuck said gently. He went to sit right beside where David was kneeling, because the man could probably use the company. "Saint David, I'm Friar Tuck. I brought you something to eat."