Jace doesn't want me to eat dem! And besides dat . . . dey're not my enemies. As long as I don't know who de ones who hate us are, de ones happy to stab us in de back while dey smile at our faces, dere's no one I want to eat. I don't want to eat people dat don't deserve it, ja?
Mon, it'd be easier if dis place was at war . . . dat's how it was at home, I think. From what I remember. Dere was war, and de losers were food for de winners.