Waiting patiently through this explanation, Saxsice nods and mouths the words "red" and "blue" to herself, raising each bottle as she does so. "Gotcha. They're different colors. Think they'd taste good mixed with stuff?"

There's probably zero market for a mixologist on this island, but that clearly isn't stopping her. She shoves the bottles into her bag and reluctantly forks over some money when the guy running the booth scowls at her.