"Yeah, that was me," she says, a little sheepish. (The fact that she's not immediately denying it and actually sounds a touch chagrined might speak to how not-herself Nimona feels lately. Or maybe it's just, gasp, personal growth! One or the other, the narration's sure.)

Unhesitating, she plops down next to Edgar and leans against him as aggressively as she can. "I was just going for the roast beef. It got stuck on the other stuff."