Those footsteps did indeed come closer to the tent, and the flap lifted to reveal Mister Meeks, with a plate of food in his hand. It wasn't much, but hopefully a loaf, or really, a roll of bread on a wooden, well-carved plate. "Captain says to hav'a fill", the forty year-old Englishman told her rather softly, even though his voice was baritone, saying it to her as if she was a very fragile creature. There was that pity look in his eyes again; someone this young being under the possession of a madman like Low. Placing the dish before her on the ground, he went back to his full height, at least around five-foot nine. 

The quartermaster swears an oath towards their fellow crewmen; that they would be protected. In this case, they would need protection from a man who calls himself "Captain". There were morals in Low; never were. Meeks was there during the takeover of the [i]Good Fortune[/i], and the madness became relevant in both of the man's eyes: he slaughtered the entire crew with gunfire, shot the captain dead, and sent the vessel aflame. Afterwards, Ned would say that "it was an honest haul, taken by an honest captain". 

Unlike the rest of the crew, however, Meeks had good judgment, and never was one to follow this twisted image of piracy. Casualties are flooding, while the blood paints the ground. That was the reality of Ned Low's wrath.