Mmmm... Nirindel grasped the pair of wooden sticks in each hand, concentrating her gaze and narrowing eyes at the task ahead of her, she felt more like it was the greatest quest, no, an entire mission in life to undertake. A simple bowl of stew.
Cold stew to be specific.
A bowl of stew that laid there for a good half hour now.
By now she had spent what, a decade? Outside of her homelands, seeing more of the world, trying to learn more of it, yet this was simply something she could not get used to. A pair of sticks to eat everything. What the hell was the reasoning behind using a pair of sticks to eat? People had different ways of eating, rituals even. Some used hands, some used some kind of utensils. Apparently Thanati used chopsticks. A pair of sticks.
Certainly, their cuisine was quite unique, as Nirindel had learned, they did seem to boast quite the variety of spices, even ones she had never seen in her life. And, of course, she had to admit that she enjoyed this specific cuisine. The one thing she did not yet manage to wrap her head around was... why sticks. How did you even 'wield' them.
This was far from the first time she had tried eating with them, or even holding them, yet she never seemed to be successful in getting a single bite into her mouth. This time, of course, was no different.
Even the personnel had seemed to occasionally approach her to see if she was alright and some of the unnecessary glances from other patrons, she had to admit, were tad embarrassing.
Worst of all, however, it seemed that she was bound to starve this time, as her pride would just not allow her to display weakness and cave into actually requesting for some kind of help or a more familiar set of utensils. Utter despair.