He laughs. "Fair."

"Mhm. We've got non-coconut chicken leftovers, or sandwich fixings, or fruit." She takes an apple and wanders off again.

"I'm in favour of nonspecific leftovers," says Milan.

"Okay!" She heads to the kitchen and opens a box that has ice in it. "We've got pork dumplings...sausage biscuits...potato noodles with venison gravy..."

"I'll have whatever you'll miss least," he shrugs.

She digs out the noodles. "Do you want to heat these, for gratuitous magic practice?"

"Sure."

Noodles! Be warm!

The noodles are warm. "The biscuits were technically the least delicious thing there but they keep better."

"It remains so weird that you don't have persistently magical objects!"

"...Oh, the coldbox, for a moment I imagined you meant enchanting food to not go bad."

"Yeah. We have magic coldboxes."

"I refreeze the ice when I happen to notice it melting?"

"I am sure that helps. Still."

"I mean honestly the whole ethernet thing sounds way more convenient for purposes of pointing out how awesome persistently magical stuff is, nonmagical coldboxes work."

"Sure, I'm not trying to sell you on the greatness of enchantment, I'm just - noticing differences. There are a lot of differences."

"True enough."

"Anyway. Thank you for feeding the helpless interplanar refugee. These potato noodles are delicious."

"You're welcome!"

Solemnly: "Dr. Bun would be so disappointed in me if I didn't."

She giggles unrepentantly.

Milan giggles too.

"You're really great. You've got so much--I'm trying to think of a better word for it than pizzazz and failing."

"That sure is a word. What is that word doing."