He was after the food, wasn't he? Pointedly, Daphne stared at Plymouth. "Are your housemates not letting you eat enough?" Was that it? Biting her bottom lip, Daphne pushed the nearest plates of food towards Plymouth. "Maybe you need to be faster. You can't survive unless you're prepared. Survival of the fittest? Although technically I think it should be survival of the ones who can adapt easier and faster."

Ramble. Ramble.

Touch Plymouth's knee.