"No," Nuray says, giving the various trays of pastries a brief glance over. They look good and smell good, but she has no idea what they taste like beyond a very vague understanding of sweetness. "I don't eat," she adds after a moment, as an explanation — so, xenian then, probably, unless she doesn't mean it literally.

She taps her nails against the counter. "People seem to like the sprinkles, though. I like them, they're pretty."