Malcolm turned his gaze on Marian and he arched an eyebrow at her. "He should know better," he said. Then he decided that no, he didn't really want to stand there while Will and Marian gulped down their food, so he turned and left them.
Tuck let out a heavy sigh once the sheriff left, and he crawled over to his mattress, still on the border of his cell and Will's. He lowered himself down onto it, his hands on his aching belly, trying to ignore the smell of food driving him crazy. "Fuck that guy," was what he finally came up with. Which, he thought, considering he was now covered in puncture wounds and bruises, was pretty eloquent.