[Franziska, naturally, gravitates towards her. It's still odd to be back again, to be alive and well and close enough to make sure Dream is doing well, and that she's making wise choices as she should.

The easiest way to do this is to tell her what she should be eating, clearly. Only, after scanning the supplies, she unfortunately finds there is nothing up to snuff.]

What? Here too?? Do the people who run these things assume that merely because we are young, that there is no refinement in our palates??