Because she thinks with her stomach at least as much as with her head, one of the human female’s favorite things to do when she visits her sister is to check out some of the food emporiums (emporia?) that don’t exist in her own neighborhood. She’s hindered, of course, by the fact that taking fresh food back on the plane could be problematic, but perhaps she’ll find something packaged to purchase and enjoy at a later date.
Sigyn frequently loses momentum at the floral display in the front of a market. She can wander among flowers for hours. Sometimes she just looks. Sometimes she sniffs. Sometimes she plays hide-and-seek.
Yes, dear, I can see you.
Ah! The produce department. Very healthy things here. That’s so important! Because you are what you eat!
Guess the human female has been feasting on these lumpy, bumpy, misshapen, scabby things for a while now…
This store has its own line of products. I wouldn’t mind having some of these.
The human female almost never makes us scones. She must not love us.
Feeling’s mutual, wench.
What have you got there, my love? A bottle of dry posies?
Of course we can buy some! Scoop out as much as you like. (I think Sigyn likes them because of their color. I haven’t the heart to tell her that if she makes tea with them she’ll just have sour red water…)
One of these days her predilection for red things is going to get her into trouble.
I have read this label six times now and I’m still confused. Are these the nests of a fowl called the Vegetable Bird? Are they nests built out of vegetables that one can put out in the garden to attract birds for viewing—or eating? Or are they one of those rare delicacies–actual birds’ nests made out of actual bird spit? In which case where do the vegetables enter into it?
You know, if it’s spit she wants, the human female need look no further than any beverage I happen to bring her…