Gideon in all her life has never seen anything like the large cords of muscle on four legs plastered over with white fur (as though that would hide the power those muscles promise). It's not threatening her. No, Gideon eyes the pot of salty water and water protein and eyes the animal. Yeah, it wants some. She reaches out to scratch its head and behind its ears. "Are you a good little temple guardian?" Gideon asks. Because she assumes that's what it is. Being cooked for is a good reason to welcome others into their home.

She spoons one out and nearly drops it when the hot meat touches her hands. She tosses it back and forth between hands until she gets it on the plate. Eyeing her soon to be new friend, Gideon ignores the heat and pulls it in half. One of them she tosses toward the animal, and the other she picks at herself. "Be warned, I've never cooked this before," she says. The flesh flakes away in pieces, hiding tiny bones that could be used to kill someone.