"I didn't want it," she answers, nearly as lightly. She owes Byerly enough already: for a secret, for a promise, for a really awkward hour spent among the trees outside camp. A bowl of horse and groats isn't much by comparison, but it's still one more thing to add to this pile of what Byerly's done for me. Besides, none of this matters--it's joking, basically. Nonsense that makes it sound like they were just on a walk. "I already ate my share."

And even if she hasn't, contemplating eating more horse than she has to is hard, even after going hungry. She'll do it, but she really doesn't want to be pushed to that point.