[the contrition and food alike are waved off by Hazel before the woman can even finish her journey towards her cell, although she's careful to keep her hand on this side of the bars. while that offering is of no use to her, she could think of a solid handful of fellow prisoners who were in desperate need of some supplements to their present rations. it would be unforgivably cruel to knock such treasures to the ground, whether in a fit of pique or mere carelessness.]

Save it for somebody who needs it.

[someone who could still eat at all.]

It's kind of obvious though, isn't it? [she tilts her head to the side, several strands of hair falling past her expression.] They can 'see' something about us that we can't.