It's true, Kel's eyes had widened for a moment or two when she first spotted the stranger, before she swiftly reined herself back in behind her old reliable impassive mask; gawking is rude, and she doesn't see any hostility in this woman. Still, she privately wonders--what sort of immortal is this? None Kel can recall learning about, certainly. At first glance, the large wings on something with a human face had called stormwings to mind, but nothing else about this woman fit that description. Thank goodness.
Her ponderings stay private though, which is just as well, because there are more urgent matters at hand. Like food. Kel turns one of the tins over in her hand, trying to make out a faded label. "I don't think I've ever seen a metal one before, let alone one that could fit in my hand. And am I meant to just... break it open?"
"I...think so. The ones I've seen have needed a special tool, but a knife should work too."
Arueshalae continues rooting around, fingers closing around a small pocket knife. She lifts it up and offers it over to the stranger.
"The tops are thinner than the sides, so you should be able to puncture it and get it out. I...think. I didn't eat from the ones I saw before. It might be the same."
The offered knife gets a smile and a shake of her head before Kel reaches to take her belt knife from its place at her hip. "You'd better keep that yourself, if you don't have one." Everyone needs a knife, that's just common sense.
Eyeing the top of the can with some suspicion, she continues, "I'd understand better if you could close it up again, but it just seems like a waste of metal this way. Is it really so cheap here?" Jabbing her blade down into the top of the can, Kel starts a bit when viscous liquid bubbles up out of the opening. "Should it do that?"
"That I can't say," Arueshalae admits. There is a lot of metal here, and most of it seems quite well made. It's kind of difficult to make heads or tails of the things they're pawing through, too.
She rises and peers at the can, sniffing the air.
"Maybe? That might be the brine. It doesn't smell spoiled yet."
There's a little frown as Kel turns her focus to sawing around in a circle on top of the can, a bizarre sensation. She's sure she's never encountered metal purposely made thin enough for a blade to punch through with ease, after all. Who came up with such a thing?
A moment later, she carefully pries up the top and prods the contents, which appear to be the most depressing mess of peas she's ever seen. It's her turn to bow her head and take a sniff, dubious. "You're right, it doesn't smell off, but..."
Delicately scooping up some of the vegetable goop on the flat of her blade, Kel pauses to send up a silent prayer to whoever's listening, and then licks it off. And she doesn't make a face, but she does go very quiet for a moment or two too long.
"... If that ends up killing me, it wasn't worth it."
Arueshalae can't help but laugh softly, reaching a gloved finger out to poke the goop inside the can. It...doesn't smell like death or anything, it's just mushy and soggy. Bland and bad, but not the worst thing in the world.
"Perhaps it would be better cooked. And certainly best left for a last resort. There's bound to be decent hunting in the forest, and I thought I heard a stream outside. Fish are much more appealing than...picked peas."
no subject
Her ponderings stay private though, which is just as well, because there are more urgent matters at hand. Like food. Kel turns one of the tins over in her hand, trying to make out a faded label. "I don't think I've ever seen a metal one before, let alone one that could fit in my hand. And am I meant to just... break it open?"
no subject
Arueshalae continues rooting around, fingers closing around a small pocket knife. She lifts it up and offers it over to the stranger.
"The tops are thinner than the sides, so you should be able to puncture it and get it out. I...think. I didn't eat from the ones I saw before. It might be the same."
no subject
Eyeing the top of the can with some suspicion, she continues, "I'd understand better if you could close it up again, but it just seems like a waste of metal this way. Is it really so cheap here?" Jabbing her blade down into the top of the can, Kel starts a bit when viscous liquid bubbles up out of the opening. "Should it do that?"
no subject
She rises and peers at the can, sniffing the air.
"Maybe? That might be the brine. It doesn't smell spoiled yet."
no subject
A moment later, she carefully pries up the top and prods the contents, which appear to be the most depressing mess of peas she's ever seen. It's her turn to bow her head and take a sniff, dubious. "You're right, it doesn't smell off, but..."
Delicately scooping up some of the vegetable goop on the flat of her blade, Kel pauses to send up a silent prayer to whoever's listening, and then licks it off. And she doesn't make a face, but she does go very quiet for a moment or two too long.
"... If that ends up killing me, it wasn't worth it."
no subject
"Perhaps it would be better cooked. And certainly best left for a last resort. There's bound to be decent hunting in the forest, and I thought I heard a stream outside. Fish are much more appealing than...picked peas."