Each question and statement received a nod as she snuggled her body into that of her aunt. "That sounds good." She still not trust the beast. The little bird seemed friendly enough and Marta had said it was her friend. But she had never called the beast her friend. But her grumbling stomach quickly distracted her. "Can we eat something other than the soup?" They had eaten that soup for days now. Marta had told her that it would give her everything she needed, that it would keep her fed. It did. But she was sick of it.