The table setting was rather grand by the time all was said and done. Kate knew how to make an impressive dinner spread. He sat at the table, looking to the food longingly, nostrils flaring at the scents.
As soon as she said for them to eat up, he looked side to side at his fellow teens, and restrained as best he could from exploding into a grabbing fest. It worked, somewhat. But food was quickly snatched all the same, a big happy grin on his face. Teddy stretched his arm to snag a butter dish to pass on to someone else before he started peppering his apple pie.
Of course, the New York Titans were used to sights like this. It was not just that Teddy had a voracious appetite, but sometimes he combined foods in odd ways.
Deviled eggs ended up being mashed around pickle slices like odd, fat ovular sandwiches. He shoved olives into his sweet potatoes (to offset the sweetness from the marshmallows). While he helped himself to a heap of mashed potatoes and gravy, he also demolished the few helpings of vegetables. He had a full plate of salad, much of it fresh spinach, garnished with turkey and cranberries and plain olive oil. Then he hogged down a good portion of asparagus mixed in his turkey stuffing. A slice of ham ended up on top of his pumpkin pie slice, the whipped cream neglected entirely. He politely declined any of the cream pies (Conner looked a bit possessive of some of them anyhow), and the whipped jello dessert. They were too sweet and milky, so instead he helped himself to more green bean salad. He decided a various number of fruits went well with turkey breast, trying them experimentally in turn. Nothing remained of the fruits. He ate them skin, seed, and core.
The turkey legs were the worse thing, though. He had managed to procure two of them before they were diced up. The two roasted legs sat on his plate like proper barbaric fare. He glanced around, watching how the other teens were eating, not feeling so bad about his own appetite. He bit into his turkey leg, pulling the shelves of meat off gently. Then set the edge of his teeth against the bone.
The crunch was still much louder than he would have liked, the bone splitting down the middle some. He had to wrench his teeth tighter around it to get a single bite into his mouth. He was being careful so chips didn't fly. The shape-shifter smiled happily as he chewed, steadily crunching.
Each plateful ended up being cleaned up by a roll mopping up any juices and bits too small for a fork. It didn't matter what combination it was. The big green teen was looking extremely satisfied, slowing down on his fourth platter.