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"If ya wanna bring me somethin' meaty, dat'll work well enough. I ain't picky, 'specially if its gonna be da only meal I get today. Ain't no sense in bringin' me nuthin' else if they jus' gonna take it they did last night." The thought of meat was enough to brighten his mood a bit. Funny how one's priorities change in odd situations like this.

Her random mutterings only made Jamal confused, as he could barely read a children's book, let alone something like a novel, so nothing she said had any meaning to him aside of the name "Moreau". Since nothing she said even clued him in that it was from a book anyway, he assumed she was talking about THIS island and THIS Moreau.

Jamal felt oddly pleased that she was so willing to get him food; he had been getting mixed reactions to his story of attacking Aubrey and had thought maybe she might have thought he deserved what he got. Why, he wasn't sure. He should know better, afterall, thanks to that chat over tea that one day. Still...somedays he wondered who he could trust and who he couldn't.

By the time she left the cafeteria, he had started pacing again, unaware he was doing it or the fact that it was being done so at a furious pace, his little tail nub lashing just over the waistband of his jeans and his elongated ears faintly twitching with each rotation. He smelt the meat before he saw her coming with the laden tray and was effectively sidetracked from his repetitive walking to hovering anxiously by the wall she had come to. A pleasured murr escaped his throat as he plopped down indian-style and pulled the napkins and water closer.

"Thanks...I was wonderin' if I was gonna eat today or not...I ain't seen anyone today aside from watchin' some commotion wit' dat cheetah girl 'n' two otha people...ya picked real good." He managed a smile in approval, not looking the least put off by her oddy sticky appendages. He had learned to accept weird things like that, apparently.

"Antony 'n' Awen said they were gonna bring me stuff ev'ryday, but they get busy, I guess." The bitter quality crossed his voice again but was muffled effectively as Jamal started to tear into the steak first and foremost. Soooo good. He swallowed and bit off another hunk greedily, watching Anjali as he mulled over her statement.

"What kinda work ya gonna do?" he inquired once his mouth was emptied of its current mouthful. "Jus' plantin' stuff again o' ya got something else in mind?"

"Da things ya learn when ya get turned inta something not human," he quipped sarcastically, though he looked more somber than he sounded, ripping a hunk of steak off with his mere hands. "I don't figger plants got thoughts like animals got, but if ya say they sing 'n' say things, I believe ya. Ain't no way I'm gonna know ma'self. All I know 'bout da jungle is dat my animal likes it 'n' dat's good enough fo' me."

The meat was tossed into his mouth and he swallowed without hardly chewing, frowning deepily at the bitterness he detected in her words. It was not unlike his own resentment or that which he had been hearing a lot lately.

"They don't care what they do to us herr. It's all a show ta make us feel betta'....then they ******** wit' us some mo' 'til we can't handle it. Then it's back ta bein' nice."

"I dunno how this could be betta...'bout only thing I'm betta at is smellin' stuff from far away 'n' gettin' mad real easy." He gnawed on the remains of the steak and made sort work of a hamburger patty, his hunger ebbing slowly now to a dull ache as he piled food in. Who knows when he'd get another meal. He watched her sticky tentacles move about with mild interest, wondering how they did that so easily. They were plant-like afterall...not like an octopus.

Jamal paused, looking away from her tentacles to give her a curious headtilt. "....yeah, I guess tigers are pretty badass..." he drawled, looking for a cue from her. He still hadn't figured out what he was turning into exactly. He knew enough that it was a big cat of sort, but how would a tiger turn his skin white? Did she mean that she knew that's what he was turning into? Or was it a random comment?

The black man had never heard of a meat-eating plant either. That sounded way too strange to him, imagining a plant attacking and eating bugs like some sort of bird or lizard. Jamal would have thought a plant would need a brain for something like that.

"I...dunno," he said, feeling foolish about it for the first time. "I neva asked. Neva cared to, anyway." Jamal flicked his whiskers, becoming distracted by the tiger's nagging demands that started to pick up again now that the hunger pains had been satisfied. It wouldn't EVER shut up.

"But a tiger...maybe. Makes sense, I guess. If they're turnin' me inta a pansy-a** house cat, I'mma be having some words wit' someone 'bout it." He forced a chuckle and pushed away the remains of his dinner, sufficently full to the point where eating wasn't priority. Getting out of the cage was. If he didn't get out soon, the tiger's constant pleas for the jungle's security and getting away from the cage's confinement was going to drive him bonkers. He was growing restless with sitting there conversing with Anjali; nothing against her, but it was an impulse he couldn't control.