"Winterfest?" He tipped his head to the side as he pulled a bowl of rather pungent soup filled with noodles to himself, sipping at the broth. "What's 'Winterfest'? We're supposed to be invited somewhere?" He considered this, then frowned. "Please tell me I'm not expected to dress up, Ciss. Please?" Reno wasn't exactly one for donning a tux and tails, thanks. Now, a festive holiday sweater wasn't exactly off the table. But a dress shirt and tie? Verdot - and then after him Tseng - had learned it was nearly impossible.

He swallowed another mouthful of soup, leaning back casually in the chair as he surveyed the spread in mild awe of the girl. She certainly didn't do anything halfway! And when was the last time he'd had food from that little island nation to the west? Months. It had to be. Many painful months. He plucked up a pair of chopsticks set out on the table, then nipped a warm dumpling drizzled with sauce - one of his favorites! - popping it into his mouth with a satisfied hum.

It'd been shortly after getting to know Tseng as a very young Turkling that he'd been introduced to the wonder of this particular style of food, and Tseng himself had taught him how to use those sticks, years upon years ago. But...

Back to this 'winterfest' thing. "Details, Ciss. We need them."