She's staring at the chicken blankly, working out how to best begin her assault. Gideon ends up pushing at piece at random. The skin breaks and a piece separates easily enough, which she stabs unceremoniously with the tines and puts in her mouth. It's even better than the bread.

"Look, what kind of sword?" She asks, fishing, pushing her bowl to the side to pull the new plate closer. "Straight or curved? Long or short? One edge or two?"