"Right. Food should be a thing- not for you. Greedy thing." He mutters, scratching the ears of the cat that appeared as soon as Carolina said 'dinner'. "You still have- well no you don't. Okay. Feed the cat, then feed us. What do you like?"

He pushes away from the sofa and weaves his way to the kitchenette, pulling down a tin of wet food and dumping it into the cat's bowl as a starter. For them he's got-

Well.

Lunchmeat. Sort of. He's got cheese and some dried up strips of turkey that might be okay.