Toxic hummed a delightful tune as she practically floated around the kitchen, tending to the feast that was close to being complete. A glance into the oven, then to the stove top, and then the roaster. With each approval, she nodded her head once. The dishes were coming along well.
All the while, she had an eye on her, just one, but Cheshire's gaze was critical even with only one eye to make use of. Of course, the woman was very used to his gaze and fond of her companion, even if he usually just preferred sitting on a shelf like a decorative wall ornament. His company and friendship was of great value, even if he had very odd ways of showing his own likeness.
When Toxic stepped in his direction, procuring a cellular phone that set next to the Kuhna, he spoke up, "Why are we having a celebration on Thanks For Life Day? You're a Turkzilla, shouldn't you be outside, going crazy and eating people?"
Even as he spoke, she was busy dialing in a number from memory. Holding it up to her ear and listening to the ring, she responded, "I'm only half Turkzilla, and I don't like most forms of meat as it is."