Jasper is familiar with the concept of food, although it’s been a while since she’s come face to face with any. The delicious smells are lost on her, but if they weren't she probably wouldn't be any less pleased about this. The skin around her nose wrinkles in disdain as she picks up a sandwich in her meaty orange hand so she can give it a cursory, unimpressed once-over.

“Waste of resources,” she rasps with palpable scorn, slapping it moistly back down on its plate. This sandwich is suffering.