[Nell has pretty much given up on eating in the dining hall itself. She's got a bowl of chicken soup that she's more or less clutching to her chest as she eats it. But there's always that sneaking feeling of disapproval of taking the bowl very far from the hall itself, even just outside of it there's a 'glare'.

She looks up at the petite form and then glances in at the room, focusing on the chattering plates.]

No... Most of the time they end up just staring at you with the knife sticking out. [She supposes anyway. Not that she's tried.] But it doesn't stop it from making it satisfying in a way. [Again, she supposes.]