It's a little weird to have somebody act so friendly towards her, especially one who doesn't know anything about her. It reminds her a little of her how her mother had been. Those days are long past.

"Nice to meet you. Name's Kyoko." She takes the fork with a small mumble of thanks. For as often as she takes her meals in solitude, right now the thought of silence is just uncomfortable. She takes a bite out of the pie, expression not quite changing, and searches for a topic. "I, uh, just got here. And now I'm eating a pie made out of snails."

It's an entirely useless comment. She regrets not saying something more clever not even a second later, eyes dropping down to plate. They're just the answers she's been giving all day (well, one of them, anyway,) but somehow it's still embarrassing...