Allie bit her lip. She really couldn't think of an appropriate response for a conversation which had taken such a macabre turn. She couldn't even decide how she ought to feel—horrified that the ambassador was so barbaric that he took pleasure at eating another animal, or sympathetic that he had to? She'd never had to deal with meeting a griffon . . . how did such a thing factor into the relationships between species, anyway? And what did that make Starlight? Was she equally monstrous for her willingness to touch the meat of an animal, or was it another example of earth pony pragmatism? It was leading her mind down all sorts of paths which were perhaps best not considered.