She is distracted briefly by the mechanical pencil but then starts writing. It's simplified pictograms, but a limited enough set of them that they could be a syllabary.

"Are those phonetic, or...?"

"Uh, some of them."

"And the rest?"

"Specific words and names, plus numbers. That one's my country, that one's 'seventeen'."

"Hm."

"What?"

"Trying to recall vague recollections of the nature of early writing systems."

"I like our writing system although I'm sure there are objectively better ones."

"A common sentiment, I'm sure."

Giggle. "Uh, I'm starting to get a little hungry, you have nonblood food around, right?"

"Yes, I can show you where."

"Thanks."

He leads her to a kitchen full of modern appliances like refrigerators.

"I'm gonna need some help here."

"This is the refrigerator. It keeps food cold. This is the microwave. It warms up food. I think the other appliances are mostly for more complicated cooking, I'm not sure, I don't eat solid food."

"...right. Is there someone I should ask, or..." She peers into the fridge.

The fridge has miscellaneous packaged food objects in it.

"The donors are all asleep, I think--there's fruit, that hasn't changed to the point of unrecognizability since I was human, and doesn't require preparation."

She locates a fruit. It's an apple. "...I don't recognize it, uh, which parts does one eat?"

He inspects it. "Everything but the core."

"Do I bite it or cut it up or -"

"I think either is considered acceptable."

Chomp. "- weird. Good, I think, but weird."

"I suppose it would be."

"Do you miss food? - or can you eat food and it just isn't useful?"