Claudia, infinitely more dangerous that Friday, considers the woman before her with an unblinking stare for a moment. "Perhaps," she allows. "What is it that you are eating?"

It does not stink of cooked meat, and Claudia has never seen such a confection. She does not eat, of course, but if she is going to be stuck with all these mortals, she might as well learn about them. It's something to do.