Zach keeps still when the priest steps in to inspect his injuries, glancing at the man's face through his thick eyelashes. He makes sure to wince ever so slightly when his more colourful bruises are touched, but in reality the injuries are mostly cosmetic by now. Since he doesn't have the experience to mimic a broken bone or something similar, he would have to rely on a sympathy ploy to spend some more time with the priest, rather than just physical reasons. Once he plays up the fear of running into his attackers again, he should be all right.

"I don't really mind the silence," he says as he goes over to the cupboard to grab a cup. "It's always noisy on the streets. It's... nice to be able to hear yourself think," he casts his eyes down shyly as he seats himself at the small table. He grabs the fork, piles some bacon and eggs on it, then pauses when it's halfway to his mouth. 

"Um... Should we say grace or something? I mean, since you're a priest and all..." In truth, a blessing would likely spoil the food for his palate, but he has to keep up the image of a timid youngster for a while longer. He'll be able to open up a little once the priest starts making an effort to coax him out of his shell.