Setsuna holds the plate out to her, carefully. "Do you ... want to try some?" She sounds uncertain of whether she wants to encourage this foolhardy, potentially deeply unsafe act.

But then she brightens. "Actually, I really do like dancing. I also like donuts ... sorry if I made them too easy to overthink." She has to pause for a second and throws a worried look in the direction of the donut box. Stacia's demeanor isn't really striking her as odd, exactly; she's never met any Americans before, though one of the other Cures had lived there for a while or something, she thinks, but Stacia acts more like Setsuna's discovered most Labyrinthians like herself to be without the stress of Moebius' regard hanging over them anymore than she seems to act like anything else, with her blunt, almost naive directness and straightforward self-descriptiveness, and it's more than a little comforting. She feels like she knows where she stands in this conversation already. "I don't think I'd like those donuts either, though ... they're not very good at making us feel welcome, are they ...?"