"More knives?" Morpheus looked surprised by that, and bent slightly, reaching into his boot and withdrawing a long dagger, with a hilt of ebony and Spanish steel. He turned it in his fingers and offered it to her. "You may keep this one, should you desire. I've not the skill required to use such implements."
Matthew reached out, as if to nip at Fen's trailing fingers, but shifted and stayed where he was. He let out another soft caw. Dream looked at the raven, and brushed his own fingers against the bird's breast. "Do not let me keep you from your meal, my Lady," he said. As he spoke the words, he placed a hand over his own stomach, frowning as it seemed his innards were curling in on themselves. His belly made an odd noise, between a creak and a roar.
Morpheus lowered his gaze. "Apologies. I... do not understand why it does that."