Sensors tell her there is weight on her shoulder, but it's so light that he might as well be a feather to her.

A low groan will confirm that he's right -- no, there is nothing about that lunch that seems appealing to Gipsy. Not really, anyway. There's curiosity at the concept of consuming anything except fuel, but not enough to make any queries about it.

Instead she hums softly, engines purring quietly in the interim.