52nd of Summer, 511AV
~noonish~
Drusilla sat alone in the kitchens, a streak of white among all the red. She sighed, not out of loneliness but because she was about to face her biggest fight. Eating among the Inarta. The plate in front of her had an Avora rationed amount of food, most of which was inedible to her. Well, she could eat it but it wasn't worth the stomach pains and sickness she would get for trying to digest the food. Drusilla picked around the plate. Maybe just a little wouldn't hurt...
As much as she suppressed it and tried to pretend she was fine living off over ripe fruit. Her Symenistra body needed meat. Uncooked, freshly caught meat. She slowly took a bite out of a peach, chewing it for such a length of time it was questionable if she would ever swallow. What a waste of good food, or she asumed it was good...
Maybe she could catch a rat later..
She looked over to the Deks eating the small amount of food they got. She felt an odd kinship with them, she had spent her childhood much like that. She looked back to her plate, they could use what she couldn't eat.