[Oh. War reaches over and tugs the top drawer out. Yes, out. He sets it on his lap and yes they're here, folded an-...sown? Why, Anise!? You ERASED HISTORY. War furrows his brow briefly as he plucks out his cowl and all the sashes and whatnot, lays them on the edge of the bed.]

My race breathed before angels.

[You're dealing with serious supernatural shit here, Anise. It is natural to eat. The Horsemen are beyond natural.]