He gnaws his lip. "Food, I think," he decides eventually.

There's too much risk of him falling asleep in a warm bath. A cold bath, that might be an option, once he's...

Noticing where Cullen's attention went, Alistair -- carefully -- pushes himself away from the wall and attempts to draw himself straighter. That lasts until he gets a whiff of the food; his stomach lets out a pointed growl, his knees going weak at the smell.

He lifts his chin, eyes closing in something nearly like bliss as he breathes deep. "Definitely food."