"They don't have these where I'm from," Credence attempts to explain, because he definitely doesn't recognize it. He reads the words but mouths them instead of saying it, and 'pop rocks' sounds sort of funny. Is it like hard soda?

He glances over at Cougar, not suspiciously but in an unsurprisingly curious way.

"If you say so," he mumbles, and opens it. Plain, simple rocks, like salt put on streets to stop icing. He holds a little bit in his hand, staring. Physically, he's fairly well--he's healed quicker than he should have, thanks to Graves--and he takes a small portion of pop rocks, unsure what to expect, and--

--and nothing. Weird, they don't taste like anything, really, just--

Oh.

Credence lets out an alarmed sound as it kicks in, snapping and crackling, and he immediately puts both hands over his mouth, visibly distressed that he's not sure whether to spit them out or keep them in. His mouth feels like it's on fire, but it's just the sensation, there's no heat to it, and he looks up at cougar, trying to find the words.

"They're like fireworks!" He manages to cry out, only to further his own confusion at the sound of his voice.