“Why don’t you just go eat some meat? We’re not meant to live on vegetables alone, you know,” says María, and takes a sip of white wine. Looking grave, they all nod. “But we don’t have true canines,” I point out. They stare at me over their wineglasses. “Carnivores all have canines.” They glance at each other, not sure what to do with me, and an embarrassing silence stretches between us.
