"Don't they have 'ethnic food imports' or something of that sort, then?"

Damian's tone is dry, but empty of venom. He notices the look on Kyle's face, and, after he sets the cookies to bake and gives the soup another stir, he scoops out some of the salad into two plates and settles one of them in front of Kyle, taking a seat around the corner from him.

"I have drunk the 'shakes'-called drinks that Pennyworth has concocted at Grayson's behest, yes."

While the words are nearly derisive, his voice is still - softer that could be expected. He misses both of them.