When Reynard first enters his home he's quick to wrinkle up his nose. It strikes him as uncomfortably fresh. Only after a moment does he realise that it leaves the house that little bit colder, allowing him to relax again. His passing inspection finishes so that when he turns back to Hazel it's as she's handing him the basket. He eyes the gift and then Hazel, and brings it over to the table to have a look.

At first he keeps his expression neutral, even and unchanged, but a broad smile soon cracks his seriousness. "Turrón... I haven't had that in decades... And these beads... I know they're Winter, but... I don't know why." With one palm flat he leans on the table and looks at Hazel. "Could you teach people how to make these in the Nexus? If Winter was honoured by a handful of people half as well as this..." He turns back to the basket and shakes his head.

Straightening, he faces Hazel properly, puts a hand over his heart, and bows. "Thank you for your gift, my dear lady."