(Lucretia, who is desperate for anything that doesn't taste like... like that, accepts an offering of whatever it is that is fried, and nibbles hesitantly on its edge.
Nope, it tastes exactly the same as everything else. She sighs, and pushes the rest into her mouth anyway, because one of the parasites is hovering expectantly at her elbow. She sighs, and rubs her stomach exaggeratedly.)
Mmmm. So good, thank you.
(And once it's gone, in a hissed whisper to Grace:) What are you talking about? This is all terrible.
C
Nope, it tastes exactly the same as everything else. She sighs, and pushes the rest into her mouth anyway, because one of the parasites is hovering expectantly at her elbow. She sighs, and rubs her stomach exaggeratedly.)
Mmmm. So good, thank you.
(And once it's gone, in a hissed whisper to Grace:) What are you talking about? This is all terrible.