"Well, from what I hear, it tastes like chicken anyway." Veronica brushed her hands along her sides, slipping them into the back pockets of her jeans, an unnecessary motion as she eased down to help him, then sit. Arya had tried to train those out of her, teach her, and while Veronica had learned, she knew that, in this at least, she would never be able to reach the level of full-time alert Arya lived at. "After being here three years, it may even be time to find out."