"They're..." She pauses, her face once more a frown--though it isn't a pained one, this time, just thoughtful. "I don't know what they are."

Rainbow sprinkles are the kind of thing that you never have to understand to enjoy. What are they even made of? Sugar, probably, but she can't picture how they're made. There's something strangely magical about that, even a decade past the age when she'd believed in magic, but it makes them hard to describe.

"They're like candy, I guess, but you only eat them on top of other things. You sprinkle them, get it?" Beth grins. "And they're all different colors, usually. Little tiny sticks, like--" She barely holds her finger and thumb apart. "Really little. They really don't have sprinkles in this dimension?"