He stares blankly at the drink. Then back up at the one offering it. Without thinking, he takes the cup. The cold beads of condensation running down its side serve to shake him out of his reverie - at least partially. Surely it couldn't be... It does not feel like a dream.

His gaze drops back to the purple concoction. It smells faintly sweet. He doesn't know what the black orbs at the bottom are. All in all, it isn't something he has a particular interest in trying so he tries to hand it back.

"I don't want it," he says flatly. "Thank you." He doesn't quite look his old friend in the eye. An easy thing to do when you're much shorter.

Right now he just wants to run, run far away from this apparition in pink and lavender.