He is just so baffled by the idea of dog meat in a bun. He is even more baffled by all the additional fixings. Lines of red, yellow, white, chopped up bits stuffed within it, what is this? How can a place filled with flying carts sleep at night when it sells dog on the side of these dark, hot roads? Twenty steps forward and two back.

His hot dog does, in fact, have a little bit of everything on it. It is a stacked weenie. Sour cream, all of it. He holds it a bit away and stares as though the dog might come back from the dead and bite his hand. But no such thing happens...well, it might, with his new company. Not that he knows. Viserys recoils at first. Then, spotting the man's garb and truly understanding his words, he holds out the food further for proper inspection.

"It is dog." No, it's not. The vendor's face reveals he has already gone over this. "Dog in bread. It is common."

Some attempts may be better than others with this whole adjustment thing.