Zoya shrugged, curving her lips up innocently. "Something."

And it was with a rather flippant blink-and-you'll-miss-it flick of her wrist that a small gust of air swept hard across the table, knocking all the phallic-shaped foods onto the floor. At least the flowery cupcakes survived. Zoya didn't mind the taste of those.

"Shame, that," she said, glancing down at the sausages. While she wasn't one to waste food, she knew that there was enough of it across the festival that this small assortment of sausages wouldn't be missed.