If it's possible for a death deity to be childlike, Melinoë claims it, lightly gasping with a bright smile. "Ice cream; truly. Well, I will not object to tasting some of that once we're out of here, should the offer stand. . .?" She's never had Ambrosia ice cream, for Gods' sake.

And as she's accepting the drink, consuming it with a heavenly sigh and rapturously closed eyes, Mel chortles at Viridi's reaction. She sort of adores this Goddess already.

"Do you mean that the creatures are weirdos or the ones they keep company with?" Perhaps both. Both works.