        She put her saddlebags on the table—very awkwardly, since it was almost at muzzle-height.  Even the table was strange—instead of being made out of wood, like a proper table, it was a slippery white material.  There was a slight gloss to it, although it wasn’t wet at all, and didn’t appear to have been varnished.  It reminded her a little of cream cheese.  A green bottle stood in the center, with a kettle on top of it.