The custard tasted like strawberries and marshmallows all rolled in to one. It was a soft, sticky liquid with a light, airy constancy. It tasted of whatever they desired, it seemed too good to be true after the starvation of the last 24 hours, while they had been lost and wandering. Terry ate the custard using the long, unusual spoon.
“Is it a trap, who lives here, can custard really taste of all our favourite things?”
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