The cucumber salad looked perfect; topped with a curl of delicate
carrot. Sam brought to the table and placed it lovingly in the center.
He placed his hands on his hips and looked at the expression of his
guests.
Uncomfortableness spread across the table, none of them wanting to be
rude. The twitching of their bunny-like noses gave away their
discomfort. Ezthan, the appointed diplomat, took a deep breath,
accepting his duty to correct the situation.
"We appricate your hosplitality, on this mission of goodwill, but," he
paused a moment, his bunny ears slowly sinking in discomfort, "we are
meatatarians."
