Oren ran the tip of his tongue over his top lip, glancing between her and the door. He fought the urge to pull his legs to his chest in an incredibly child-like move. He didn't want to seem weak, and it would contort his middle painfully. When he was offered the food he happily grabbed the tray, face lighting up. "Oh." He wasn't expected to get fed, but he definitely wouldn't protest. Between rapid bites he offered up his name. "Oren." He didn't give a last name, his mother's and species rules ringing in his head. He relaxed as he ate, the food in his stomach making him much happier. He glanced up at the girl, taking the time to look her over. "You look better when you aren't splattered in blood and ichor, Missus...?" He asked, flashing her a smile and his canines. Oren was surprised she hadn't asked him what he was. How polite.