[ A rare trip to Springstar has landed her in the midst of the Psychagogía for reasons that aren't very difficult to decipher: exotic liquor-tasting. It's probably the only way she'd willingly endure the constant brightness of the city, and when is she ever really going to get the chance to imbibe all the best celebratory beers and ales an alien world has to offer?

She's on her fourth or fifth stop in the drink tour, enjoying a fresh mug of something that tastes borderline divine when she spots someone also in the throes of merriment. A stranger, for sure, but one with enough food in his grip to actually make her raise a brow.

Well... far be it for her to judge when it's all free, and everyone is perfectly happy to plow all the newcomers with enough food and drink to burst. But the smell. Please tell her it's at least coming from something on his plate. ]

You didn't hold back on visiting every single stall, did you? You don't have to scramble to try them all in one day, you know.

[ Says the woman trying ever beer in one day... ]