The sloth was so soft, and the tag around its neck said Aurora in letters tiny enough that Octavia had only noticed it the second time around. And she was weak, okay.

(And at the same time, not strong enough to actually decide to buy it for herself because it was a frivolous, unnecessary thing to get.)

(This was where a perceptive snogon came in handy.)

Octavia peered in the container she'd picked up. Apparently this was the roti? "Well, whatever it is, I hope it's tasty." Everything smelled good. The restaurant had smelled good. Those things seemed like a good sign.