Moira doesn't have any problem with closer. She just smells for a moment. The meat and the ginger and Lucas and ... hm.
She starts with the oatcakes right out. "They're good. Och, thanks, I haven't actually had any since last December." Granny and her staff had been a wee bit busy when she and Danielle had first gone there this summer.
Moira digs in quickly. There's not any real lack of table manners: she chews with her mouth closed; she uses a napkin. And yet somehow that doesn't stop a piece of chicken being picked to the bone almost before she's done brushing brushing off the crumbs from her first serving of oatcakes. She's just... a very fast eater. And she's...obviously very happy.
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