babies making booze

"Indy, then." She grinned, giving her own little tail-wave. Perhaps Indigo was a touch formal, but it was a nice name to her, anyway. Her own was a bit of a mouthful, she knew, and he was welcome to use a nickname or the whole thing.

She shook her head in answer, and sat before the array of honey, yeast, and water, curiously looking over the ingredients. "I think the general idea is to just mix it all together and wait? That's all I've got, though," she chuckled. Her encounters with alcohol had been few and far in between. It was a curious thing that stripped you of your logic, your senses, your basic coordination.... She chuckled inwardly at the memory of watching squirrels nibble at the squishy, fermented fruit beneath berry bushes, amused when they ran in place or tripped over their own paws.

"So what do we do?"