Hey, sleeping always leaves the Soldier hungry. So does cryofreeze. (Of course, the Soldier's metabolism is kind of insane, so their case might be unique, and Aziraphale's sleeping was magical in nature, so might also be unique.) Regardless, they settle down where indicated, not quite close enough to touch. Enjoy that stew, Aziraphale, it's got beef, potato, carrots, onions, and some gentle spices to them-- the Soldier perfected the spices over the past two weeks, at least to their own taste. It's very homey-tasting.

"What do you remember?" they ask after a moment, and a few bites. "From the feast. And after."