Eddie smiles, because despite the imposing figure the particular note of that near-whine is familiar. Universal tone of 'please give me some of what you have'. He slices a new piece of quiche, a little wider than standard, and dishes it up for her.

"Spinach quiche," he explains, "It's a pastry crust filled with chopped vegetables in a base of eggs, milk, and cheese. Goat milk and cheese, in this case." He hands over the plate, along with a fork. "Except for the flour and butter for the crust, it all comes from my farm out in Northwest Hollow."