Whatever smells good. Scent conjures up associations that tug at memory, but in Markus' case, they pull at a blank slate. The whole of his experiences, revolving around appetite and how to satiate it, remain a work in progress.

Sniper's right though; his nose often leads him in the right direction. Markus takes it upon himself to slow to a stop, his breathing still catching up with the expended effort, though he gazes around at the food stands available.

Even from here, something sizzles in the distance. Carried on the wind, he catches its scent.

"Then if you're going to be so kind... there, maybe."