Hey, Toska has no idea what he's putting into his body most of the time, either, and yet here he is, bent over his own meal and loudly shoveling it down. He looks up when Lapis addresses him, though, still chewing as he does. At least he'll wait until after swallowing to try and answer, so she's saved from the spray of talking while eating.

"Bird! Definitely some kind of bird," he says, straightening up further to his full height (while seated, anyway) and grinning toothily down at Lapis. "Maybe chicken? But I'm not really sure. I usually don't have time to cook chicken when I get it."