Kinda.

[Said the blunt raccoonoid, who, while not knowing what a goblin is, only sees a creature of some indeterminate species who doesn't have to eat raw meat. People would allow her into establishments properly where he's from before they'd allow him if they were really being shitty that day.]

What? You think this is a "oh no what will the neighbors think" thing? [He scoffs, which only serves to get the juicy taste of lizard all up in his business and his mouth waters again.] It's a personal thing. It's a-

a- [His eyes follow the carcass. There's blood dripping onto the grass, and it just feels like kind of a waste. You clean the meat, cook the meat, and add spices and shit to it, but the stupid thing just sits there marinating in its own juices, so maybe she's got it right.

He licks his lips and then snaps his jaws at it, ripping off a bigger chunk and only just barely careful enough about her fingers. This time, there's no pretense or illusion of disgust. Just fresh meat that's still warm enough sliding down his throat, and blood on his muzzle.]

You frickin' enabler. [There's no indication he disagrees with her decision, however. It almost sounds like he's admitting she did him a favor.]