The drug was significantly sweeter and smoother than most of the things Cassidy put into his lungs. The smoke, when he exhaled, came out in dense ribbons that almost seem to shimmer with pale colors in the false sunlight. He took a second, deep drag, and blew that one out with his eyes closed, the expression of a connoisseur's appreciation. Already, he was starting to feel a tingle at the tips of his fingers.

"Tastes like a bloody summer's day itself," he remarked, and tipped the pipe toward her. "You wanna try some?"