[ Curiously, from his words she cannot help but recall a certain Alchemist who enjoys the luxury of sweets. His interest in them always peeked the Astrologists mind, since he did not often eat much himself. Though the reason for that was different from her own choice in eating only Salads. Regardless, her eyes flutter as she drowns her mind in thought.

There is a tinge of exhaustion, as if she is a bit overwhelmed by his need to color the situation with a flair. Mona is also there, reminded of another named Fischl. So she with some understanding to the type of personality he has, accepts it and continues on with the conversation at hand. Especially when he is for a lack of a better words, right in what he wishes to say.

It merely just is, Mona has a sense of Pride. She cannot ask others for help, she cannot let other people help her, and she cannot let herself capsize over her own efforts. To be weaker or lesser than another, the criticisms of her existence were upheld by herself alone. Something that would not simply be dismissed over a conversation, or two about it.

Especially when she lacked social nuances, and friends for that matter. ]

Then it is good I have let you come feed me then, I suppose it is okay and well. To eat larger meals when the opportunity presents itself.