( investigating the rest of the kitchen, blinking each time she finds something starkly unexplained in her world experienced and endlessly curious, ciri had only avoided the fridge because he'd been taking up its space. or one of them. it's a larger kitchen than some she's known, far smaller than others, and these cupboards keep providing all manner of goods from cans and jars and thin made boxes and wraps and what is most this?

she has a jar of nuts in hand when she looks over to cal, brow furrowed at the item in question. she has to come closer to peer down at it properly. )

If it's in the kitchen, it should be. There's other areas for the dangerous things.

( the medical bay, the place where people could make weapons with the machine she doesn't understand but understand creates. there's a draw to it, the constructive power behind it, but that can be addressed later. )

If it's not meant to be eaten raw, you could... roast it? Or make it part of a soup. Or stew.

( thinking to more recent meals, and less to decadent ones from the majority of her life. sauces could make a great deal of things more delectable than they were on their own, spices likewise. which of what was here she had no idea. )