[ He makes a light noise, a soft, half-huh in between bites, since it is indeed more laid back than he’d expect, a bit. There was no one in Mictlan that really cared (or they would never dare voice it to the mighty Tezcatlipoca), and the most he’d ever gotten from Daybit on the matter was a completely flat-toned reminder to wipe his face. Here in Kenos, though, not so much. He tries to match the ways of wherever and whenever he’s staying (within reason), and he’d quickly found that up in Highstorm or Springstar? Yeah, not as popular. So, there’s a practical reason he likes this place. No one in Kowloon asks questions. ]

Yeah, it’s basically that.

[ As credit for an answer he appreciates, he’ll at least explain it. ]

I’m the Lord of jaguars, so my diet matches ‘em. Anything but meat doesn’t work out great for me.

[ His truest weakness as a god in human form is the most relatable: tummy hurty disease ]

Plus, y’know. [ He waves a hand vaguely as he finishes the piece, then tosses another on the grill. He’ll at least take the tongs back, since if Matt isn’t partaking, he won’t force him to be the grillmaster. ] Fits with the whole sacrifice thing. Not that I’m usually eatin’ what’s sacrificed to me, just symbolically and all.