The tiny cup is a little annoying to navigate. Ciri's used to drinking out of something more substantial, in big gulps if needed, not pouring thimblefuls of liquid down her throat. But she manages, though it lingers too much on her tongue, and she grunts and makes a face as she slams the little glass down, swallowing the burning sensation.

She reaches for the bottle to refill them, assuming there's no break meant in between.

"You really should've just gotten bigger cups."