"It's good! It reminds me of the sparkling cider we have at Thanksgiving and Christmas," Pepper says, bubbly as her drink. "Except... less apple and more..." She takes another investigative sip. "Strawberry-like, or whatever tastes kind of like strawberries around here. I haven't mapped all the fruits and vegetables to their Earth-equivalents yet."

Yes, she keeps mental files of the food, too.

"There's probably not enough of that," she says wryly, gesturing to his drink, "to convince you to dance, is there?"

It's not meant to be a serious indication of intent to drag him into the dancing floor; being even this far out of his element by coming to the masque was probably enough for the evening.