As she mulled over what Cyril said, something in particular caught her attention, something that brought a small confused frown to her face. But before she could voice that concern, the waiter returned with the food. And as soon as the cover was lifted—[color=ffe63d][i]so fancy![/i][/color]—her eye went as wide as a full moon. It was like nothing she'd ever seen. Well, online or on TV, sure, but never in person, never anything like this. It was just...

So occupied was she in staring at it that she jolted when she realized Cyril had already started eating, and she hastened to do the same. She picked up her knife, and...

Which fork should she use?

She opened her mouth to ask, but Cyril seemed occupied chewing, and it would just be awkward. So instead she attempted to surreptitiously peer at the fork he was using. Okay, it was the larger one on the right. Feeling anxious about her table manners, she took care to cut a slice of the hen and get a bit of the truffle and "foie gras" on the fork, then dipped it in the "jus," that was what she was supposed to do, right? And then finally conveyed it to her mouth, looked at it one last time, and took a tentative bite.

"[color=ffe63d]...[/color]"

She wasn't exactly sure what she was expecting.

Oh, it was [i]delicious.[/i] There wasn't even room to argue with that. It really did just taste like nothing else she'd ever eaten in her life. But...that was also partially why she was almost a little bit...[i]uncomfortable,[/i] even. She blinked a few times, staring at the newly-empty fork with her brow furrowed, then realized that Cyril was asking her a question, and was also looking at her with something like concern. Oh. Right. She was staring at her fork, and still had food in her mouth. Swallowing hastily, she gave a halfhearted "[color=ffe63d]Sorry, it's just...it's a little much,[/color]" and carefully placed the fork on the plate before she took a long drink of water.

Only then did she continue the conversation, voice a little clearer. Tilting her head up to the ceiling, she tried to remember the first time she'd gotten in [i]Ablaze,[/i] the disastrous phase test, and the second time, to pull her weapon to...

Oh. Oh, wow. 

She hadn't even realized that..."[color=ffe63d]I, uh, my duel with Roaki was, um,[/color]" she mumbled, feeling suddenly self-conscious, "[color=ffe63d]it was, um, the third time I...ever connected. It was mostly just...a [i]lot[/i] of sims.[/color]" It really did come naturally, didn't it?

[i][color=black]Of course it did,[/color][/i] a feeling inside her seemed to say from deep down, [i][color=black]it's what we were made to do.[/color][/i] Quinn...didn't really know how she felt about that. She didn't think Besca would like it.

She gave her head a quick shake and switched topics back to that first thing Cyril had said, before the food arrived. Spearing a chunk of potato on her fork, she held it in the air for a moment as she cocked her neck, face writ with confusion. "[color=ffe63d]The Dane lady? You mean [i]Firebrand?[/i] Axan, I think it was?[/color]" She bit down on the potato, and a little smile stole over her face. Now [i]that[/i] she could eat. Chewed, swallowed. Took a drink. And when she spoke again, her voice was pure confusion:

"[color=ffe63d]But she was so [i]good![/i] She saved my life, she mulched two Modir like it was [i]nothing,[/i] she even sounded like she was having fun! What do you mean, she doesn't even get interviews?[/color]"