Coconut Grove a shadow in the corner, just playing along

The viking wasn't sure what he thought of the taste that lingered in his mouth from the milk that had spilled from the cracks of the shell. Certainly, it wasn't like a taste he'd ever experienced before — though he wasn't too sure he could say with any kind of confidence that he'd ever eaten any kind of fruit. If he had, he couldn't recall it. Caiaphas devoured fruit-nut's meat — a stark white against the dark gray of the thing's shell. Idly, Kjalarr licked his chops, tasting the sweet tang of it where it lingered upon his lips again, still trying to decide how he felt about it. It was a new flavor to his previously staple pallet, exotic in every form of the word. “Do you like it?” Kjalarr asked her curiously, though he supposed whether she liked it or not probably didn't matter. It was food. It wasn't venison or elk but in the state of the Wilds Kjalarr understood the simple truth that they couldn't afford to be picky. She rose, presumably to Kjalarr in the search of more of them, and idly he rose too, figuring that if she found more, at least it was good exercise on his jaws. The force it took to chew and prey it to crack apart might work to give him more power and strength to his jaws. Useful for hunts and fights. He would open as many as she wanted him to, respecting the hierarchy law that the alpha always ate first.