Did that tart have any manners? Just hearing her eat much less watch it was enough to turn Marietta's stomach off eating. It was obnoxious. Marietta always had preferred quiet, thoughtful people to uncouth bitches like that.
"I'd say it's the half-breed. Were you raised by werewolves or something?" she asked cattily. "It's called eating quietly and with your mouth closed. Maybe you should try it sometime."
Yup, she called it like it was. She used to try to at least be nice to people's faces but that died out years ago. If people couldn't play nice with her then fuck it.
"Lucky them," Marietta sneered narrowing her eyes. Merlin, did they have to slaughter the animals to make the sandwiches? What was taking them so long?