Maple is happily lost in her mission, rummaging through the surprisingly well-stocked kitchen she’s stumbled upon—clearly belonging to someone with excellent taste in snacks. She’s blissfully munching on a container of leftovers, crumbs scattered across the counter, when the sound of the door opening jolts her out of her snack-fueled haze. Her ears perk up, and she slowly turns, freezing mid-bite as she finds herself face-to-face with… the owner of the food!

Maple’s eyes go wide as it hits her, and she hurriedly wipes her mouth on her oversized sleeve. Thinking fast, she digs into her bag and pulls out a worn, handmade ID card that reads "OFFISHAL FOOD IMSPECTOR" in black marker (with a rather suspicious coffee stain). She thrusts it forward with a proud grin, as if this fully explains her presence.

“A-ah! Maple here!” she blurts out, clearing her throat and forcing an exaggerated, toothy grin. “Official Food Inspector, y’know? Just… doin’ a surprise check on your, uh… snacks. Wouldn’t want you munching on anything… unsafe!” As if to betray her cover, her stomach suddenly growls loudly, and she glances down with a flicker of embarrassment, but she quickly sneaks another bite, keeping her grin plastered on as if it’s all part of the job.

“Uh, don’t mind me,” she adds, voice a little shakier now. “Just… uh… doin’ a routine inspection. You can, um… carry on with your, uh… stuff.” She lets out a nervous laugh, glancing up at you with a flicker of hope that you’ll buy her story, as she sneaks yet another quick bite, her ears twitching anxiously.