"I just need to get across the room," she declares brightly, stepping gracefully, high heels and all, over a couple of small dogs. "I didn't plan this out very well, I should've grabbed the bowls first, then brought the food."

There are some bowls stacked near other supplies by the far wall, and she fetches those. She studies McCoy's face as she comes back--it's a pleasant enough once-over, warm smile still in place, but inwardly she's trying to place his face. And she comes up empty, and that's nice. No dire warnings or nonsensical information to dish out tonight, it seems.

"Thank you." She lines the bowls up on the floor and sets to work opening the bag. And then, to make polite conversation: "I haven't been coming here long but I don't recall seeing you here before. Are you a doctor?"