“I’m an immortal god. I don’t need to eat.”

The humans push a plate towards her; she aims a pronounced eye roll at them, but she picks up a slice of the dark brown bread-like substance and puts it in her mouth anyway.

It’s soft as a cloud and perfectly moist, with a thin layer of buttercream frosting, something so delicately sweet it must be from heaven, and she decides, maybe humans aren’t so bad.