@cachiinnation
The concept of food is foreign and bewildering. She doesn’t need to eat - she knows others do, of course, that hunters did, but -- well, she couldn’t help but be curious. She gets a meal from a street vendor and stares at it for a bit. It smells good, and yet... she’s too self-conscious to try eating it. What if she can’t? She’d look like an idiot.
So she’s, instead, simply sitting there holding a hot dog in one palm, marveling at how small it looks, comparatively. She notices someone coming by, the sound of the wheelchair getting her attention and making her look up, reminiscent of the way she was always ready to pay attention to Gehrman.
“Hello, you, sir--” Too rude. She modulates her tone to something much gentler and quieter, startled by the volume of her own voice. “Sir, ah - could I trouble you for a moment?”
She really doesn’t want to throw the food away.
