"Mm. The spirit is willing, yes, but the flesh..." He pauses there, and sinks into a chair with a sigh, since she seems set on filling his plate. "If I were any good at- the word you'd rather I didn't say aloud, I'd look more like I do on the astral plane, I suppose. So don't worry too much over it." The truth is that while he's not a glutton, he's accustomed to larger portions simply because he's a larger man, and he does enjoy solid steak-and-potatoes sorts of food. Between that, somewhat erratic eating habits, and a more sedentary lifestyle, he's well settled into his current weight. As much as it might embarrass him he carries it very well, suffers no ill health, and it seems to suit him. Settling into semi-retirement, adopting cats, and finding friends in the Nexus has all softened him, in more ways than one. If Mara had met him 150, or 200 years ago, it would have been a more dashing but far more grim and dour figure of a sorcerer. The man she knows now is more teddy bear than grizzly, and he looks it.

"But... mm, Smoke tends to be the more playful of the girls. Whisper is shy. That's... likely my fault. I stepped on her, when she was just a kitten..." He still feels guilty over that. Reaching over to a small table close beside the chair, he rummages through a handful of papers, finding a sheet that's blank but for a few unneeded scribbles and half-notes. He'll trade Mara scrap paper for a plate of food, and shows just how little reservation he has about eating what she's brought by sampling it before she's even gotten her own.