This is it. After what you estimate to have been weeks upon weeks of being sold and resold, endlessly shipped around space and thoroughly examined by countless alien slave-vendors and buyers, you've ended up at what seems to be your final destination, a banquet of sorts?

From the small, covered cage you're situated in you can't see much, but the buzz of conversation in a language you can't yet decipher, the clanking of utensils and the extremely foreign yet intoxicating blend of smells from what you think, or at least hope is food, gives it away.

You're hungry.
Your current owners have fed you some. You suspect the food you were given tastes as bland to the tounges of your alien captors as it does to yours, though you have no way of knowing for sure. But you assume they wouldn't waste fancy food on a slave they were about to give away.

Yeah, that's another piece of information you've gathered, you're about to be gifted away to someone, perhaps someone important.