Roamer settles in to the corner of an open pantry door as Willow flies through it, bags thumping arrhythmically as they’re opened and searched in turn. Brown lumpy things — she sniffs them, first, experimentally, before she takes a rather desperate bite out of one of them. Not sweet, not spicy; ‘facts, very plain, but food is food is food is food when you’ve been starving for weeks and you’ve been eating dirt to try to get by. She sticks the full potato in her mouth, continuing to rummage, now with a happy hum and a bounce in her step... c’mon, there’s gotta be something better than Brown Lumps! That’s, like, basically dirt, just all hard and together-y!
She takes another bite, like it’s an apple, and she turns to Roamer. “S’not bad! Want sum?” Roamer, of course, is a robot — circular body, mostly-screen, dragonfly, green wings, retractable hands and legs. Big eyes stare at Willow before breaking into an xD. Willow laughs back, gleefully. Roamer doesn’t eat food, of course.
“Roamer, keep watch for me,” she says, and she starts dumping out food bags on the ground around her, searching for Not Brown Lumps.