She was still shivering lightly as she looked for food, holding her tumbler of whiskey close and eyeing the packed cooling unit. After a long bit of deliberation she ended up pulling out an entire roll of summer sausage, and set it on the counter, eyes flicking to a loaf of bread beside the fridge. She downed the glass of whiskey and set the empty container aside before hunting down a knife and cutting the loaf of crusty, fresh stuff in half. She was so glad she'd found a place that had things like this...she'd missed this stuff so bad. She made no secret of her moving around the kitchen finding things. This was how she was. Who she was. She just couldn't help it and didn't care to. She ended up walking into the living room with the entire thick role of sausage laid lengthwise between the split layers of french-style bread. Only now it was half gone.
She stood near the edge of the living room, looking at him as she ate before she raised a brow and looked around his house. Sharp teeth made quick work of the food and when she only had about a third left she returned to the kitchen, disappearing from view as she rummaged through the crisper. Her eyes went wide at the appearance of a couple new york strips wrapped in butcher paper. She leaned back slowly, her head just barely appearing into view in the distance and her bright green eyes catching his for a second before she disappeared again, unwrapping the treasure she'd found with a quiet rustle and pulling the top one out before she wrapped the other back up and slid the crisper shut.
She lifted her "sandwich" from the counter and lifted herself up onto it with the heel of the hand that currently held the limp steak. Her legs swung faintly as she alternated between sandwich and cut of meat, tearing off strips of the raw muscle effortlessly and pausing after a while, staring down at both her full hands. She looked at Gunnar from the corner of her eye, and when she was sure he didn't have his full attention on her laid the half-eaten steak on top of what was left of her sandwich, holding it all together in her hands and opening her mouth wide to take the next few bites and finished it off not too long later. The whole process had taken a little under three minutes. She laid back very slowly onto the counter, hands flopping to either side of her hip and her legs still hanging off of it, dangling and still. Her stomach was full now, and she looked a lot less like she would drop dead any second and a lot more like a healthy, if not awkwardly (in an adorable way) lanky tom boy of a woman. Or, from Gunnar's prospective, just a set of legs and untied, worn combat boots.
She rested there for a minute as the food settled, and then jumped spryly from the counter, wiping her hands on her jeans. She brought her glass with her into the living room and held it out to gunner, leaning over to make it easier for him to pour more of that heavenly, warming liquid into it for her. The food had completely killed her buzz, and while she liked not being so hungry, she also wanted her buzz back. She glanced over her shoulder then at the violin case stashed on the side of the fridge facing them, and then relaxed a bit, moving down to sit with her legs folded beside him.