He had to stop himself from simply wolfing the whole thing down, the strange meats from strange animals making the act of self-discipline exceeding difficult given how delicious they were. He had to keep reminding himself he could take his time; he did not need to rush and was not going anywhere. He had the option to savour a full, uninterrupted warm meal for the first time in months, one where he did not have to compromise for the sensibilities of the ponies he was surrounded by, with broths and soups and keeping strictly to the vegetables he knew were safe to eat through trial and error. How did he know? Well, after new and exciting adventures in culinary exploits, if he didn’t end up throwing up and finding undigested chunks of a certain something he didn’t recognise from Earth, he’d put it on the ‘possibly consumable’ mental checklist.