[Ivan stopped right in front of the small glass.

It was like the beacon of a lighthouse calling out to him (or perhaps the illumination of Volgin's electrified body on a good evening); a reward for his job well done a few days ago in the fight with Ocelot. That stupid prick.

A quick glance this way, that way, and he picked it up to eat, downing it.]

Hm...I've had better. [He said as he cleaned the inside with a finger, then stuck it in his mouth.]