Eddie rose, a fume of smoke, a snaking cobra ascending full height. He rose to claim his meal.

"Thanks," he said, his eyes on the fish. "This doesn't even look poisoned." Quite the compliment. Idly, he fingered the silverware salvaged, waiting for Eridan's own meal to mature. He cleared his throat a few times, cautious in his staring.

Eridan had grown. It was even now a disconcerting concept.

"Are you tracked?" He asked this without preemption. "Collared, I mean, with a tracker. I had to cut mine out. Spinal scar."