"Some what?" But even without an answer, Peter moved anyway, ducking down and away from the herbs which were either poison or itchy or both probably. He knew enough from all of his travels to avoid things if people warned about them, anyway.
"Thanks," he said with a lopsided little smile when he took the glass -- offering the amber liquid something of a curious sniff before he took a sip. It went down smoother than he'd imagined it would, and found he rather liked it.
But not enough not to set it down in order to riffle through the records she'd pointed to. "I've heard of some of these," he admitted with a fond smile. "Bowie. The Rolling Stones. What's best? What's your favorite?"