Julia was dipping her bread in the broth before realising that Clara was abstaining.

Ever the shit disturber, Clara decided to follow Julia’s lead. While messy, it was a tasty way to enjoy dry bread without butter.

Clara came to realise that this generation of hunters differed from her own. In the early twentieth century, hunters were trained to be independent thinkers capable of taking action on their own. Whereas this group appeared to reward conformity. You can’t hunt effectively as an army.

There were times when Clara would have loved having an army at her back. Admittedly she imagined herself leading these troops out of here, which cemented her opinion of them.

In the far corner on a distant table, Clara noticed that Agnes and a small group of girls were also bucking the trend. I’m really starting to like her.

Julia turned to Clara and smiled, as though the werewolf was sharing something deeply personal. Clara returned the gesture, but did not immediately dive into her meal.

Instead, she scanned the dining hall. Almost everyone was eating the same dish in an identical manner. If synchronised eating was an Olympic sport, they would handily win gold.

Julia was dipping her bread in the broth before realising that Clara was abstaining.

“What the fuck?” Julia whispered after realising the eerie pattern.

“My thoughts exactly,” Clara said.

It may as well have been sung by a choir. Clara was taken aback by the level of coordination required. That’s not something we ever did.

While hunters said grace, they did so on their own and mostly in silence. There were risks to announcing their religious nature when the likes of them were around.

Instead of mumbling, Julia recited Grace in English, with the cadence of someone who learned it from sheer repetition.

Julia turned to Clara and smiled, as though the werewolf was sharing something deeply personal. Clara returned the gesture, but did not immediately dive into her meal.

“Just mumble along,” Clara whispered.

The other tables must have picked up a silent cue from the head table. They all closed their eyes, completed the sign of a cross, and recited Grace in Latin.

“Benedic, Domine, nos et haec tua dona quae de tua largitate sumus sumpturi, per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen.”

It may as well have been sung by a choir. Clara was taken aback by the level of coordination required. That’s not something we ever did.

Instead, their dishes were brought in from the kitchen. The Tower had never been known for their culinary delights. Some things are constant.

Their roots within the Church meant they ate more like monks. There was a sizable piece of bread, a soup composed primarily of broth, and a small plate of steamed meat and vegetables.

In contrast to formal dining events, there was one fork, knife, and spoon. She glanced quickly at Julia who did not appear to be bothered by the simple meal. Whereas this singular event reminded her just how often she had seen this on the menu. They said that hunters rushed through their training just to expand their palate.