"They are the children, for the most part." His laugh is little more then a squeak and his nose wrinkles up with it.
It's just then that he catches sight of a tray some small distance away and he's reaching his arm out towards it -- a goblet winks out of existence only to reappear, cradled carefully in the outstretched hand. Merrick offers it up, not looking at her. "We start young."