Cirno accepted the Donk Pocket and bit gingerly into the still-frozen meat-flavored foodstuff. It tasted... mysterious. Like a puzzle, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a flaky pastry crust. Had it been warmed beforehand, the phrase 'Donk-tastic' would probably have come to mind, but as it was it was more... 'Donk-ish'. She picked up and sniffed the carton of Bilk, her nose wrinkling. It smelled sort of like old milk mixed with rotten apple juice and sadness. She handed it back.
"Sorry, Mr. Clown. I'm not thirsty right now."