Ople mostly stayed silent. She was almost never the conversation starter. But, most of all, she didn't know what to talk about with these people. The people sitting around her, were almost nothing like what she usually encounters.
Out of the blue, a memory of hers: When she was younger, she got into a fight with some kid, because she accidentally offended him.

She sat quietly, listening to their conversation; Their introductions; Someone spoke in a language she never even heard of. But, something didn't felt right. She felt that something was off. Was it someone around the table? Were the consumption on the table, poisoned? And then she realized!

She just arrived, and already more worried about having a conversation, than remembering to eat more. She giggled at her own silliness, before taking a bite out of a bread, on the table. [i]"Wow, these bread are better than the one at the store,"[/i] she thought to herself.