[Jack lofts a brow at her for the snap, but remains mild, himself. He's had much worse lobbed at him by allies and even friends, and he knows she's on edge. She must be, looking and smelling as she does.]

It's okay. Some people are more worried than others about the potentially-former-people meat, so I try to be clear when I can.

[He rummages in a cabinet for some bowls.]

We may not be allowed to be picky about it forever, though, as much as I hate to admit it.