Malcolm gives him a grateful, if shaky smile, but only realizes as cup clatters against saucer that his hand is shaking. He clenches it into a fist in his lap and with an apologetic look, takes the tea with his left hand and takes a sip.

“Oh, that’s new,” he notes. “I like it. Is that… ginger? Annnnd…” he takes another sip trying to place the other flavours.