[ He blinks at her when she reaches for the tankard – he had thought she had been pretty clear about how disgusting she found the stuff – but he releases his grip on it. ]
Knock yourself out. But just to be clear, just 'cause you've got some cider in you isn't gonna change the taste of this stuff.
I doubt you're gonna like it any more than you did before.
She draws the tankard over, sniffing it first, before lifting it for another tentative sip. Again, she wrinkles her nose as she swallows, licking the drops of ale from her lips. ]
[ He follows her gaze before draining the last of his ale. He sets it down heavily on the table before pushing back from it, the legs of his chair scraping lightly across the wooden floor. ]
Yeah. I guess we should try to get an early start.
[ She pushes away from the table, getting to her feet, but as soon as she stands up, she blinks a few times, startled by the sudden lightheadedness. It's not terrible, and she doesn't feel completely off-balance, but it's strange. ]
... Huh.
[ She rests a hand on the chair as she steadies herself, like she's evaluating the sensation. ]
[ He waits patiently as she gets her bearings. Thankfully, she doesn't fall flat on her face (and he sends a quick word of gratitude to whatever gods are listening, because he's pretty sure that half-elven barkeep might descend upon him in a righteous fury).
When she seems steady enough, he offers her a quick, tight-lipped smile. ]
[ He follows after her, and while he doesn't grab hold of her arm, he still at least reaches out a little cautiously, ready to catch her.
But there's something a little overly cautious about it, something clearly exaggerated. He's joking as much as he's genuinely keeping an eye out for her. ]
You're sure? 'Cause there's no shame in needing a piggyback ride.
[ And now she feels like he's definitely messing with her. She looks over at him with a sly narrowing of her eyes, though she manages to contain her smile. ]
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He seems like he must've been a decent guy.
[ Though Peter wisely refrains from offering any assurances that his decency would probably lead to a comfortable life.
He's cynical like that. ]
Maybe you'll cross paths with him again some day.
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He moved away, the last time I went to the village.
[ So— the likelihood feels painfully – a shame, but the nature of life.
Shifting in her seat, Yan nudges away her tankard, licking her lips. ]
I can see why people drink this one.
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It's a good beginner's drink.
[ And he offers it a little teasingly, trying to lighten the mood, at least a little. ]
You wanna be careful with those, though. The sweeter they are, the easier they are to drink, and before you know it—
[ He points at the ceiling. ]
Rafters.
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I wouldn't fall out of the rafters.
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[ In that flat, even way that expresses every ounce of his doubt. ]
It doesn't count if you go all— [ A vague wave of his hand. ] —foxy, you know. That's just cheating.
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[ But, apparently, since she's finished her cider, she reaches over, a little curious as she wraps her hand around his tankard. ]
Can I try it again?
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Knock yourself out. But just to be clear, just 'cause you've got some cider in you isn't gonna change the taste of this stuff.
I doubt you're gonna like it any more than you did before.
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[ And she feels... a little floaty?
So more is better.
She draws the tankard over, sniffing it first, before lifting it for another tentative sip. Again, she wrinkles her nose as she swallows, licking the drops of ale from her lips. ]
Ugh.
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It's not about the taste, but you also have to build up immunity to the taste.
And it's a better idea to do it over time than try to brute force your way through it in one sitting. Because, again.
[ He gestures upward once more. ]
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Then that was me building immunity. You can keep it now.
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You know you don't have to do that, right? You can stick to cider.
[ This, as he's pulling the tankard closer to his side of the table. ]
You feelin' okay, though? Could you walk in a straight line if you had to?
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[ A light statement, though she gestures a bit, wiggling her fingers at him. ]
A little... light?
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[ And though her tankard is empty, he still reaches over to set it aside. More of a symbolic gesture than anything. ]
Maybe one of these days you can try getting drunk, but maybe not when we've got plans to meet with that alchemist at sun up.
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That seems fair.
[ She props her chin up on her palm, watching him quietly. ]
Do you like being drunk?
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[ An easy enough answer, and one he offers brightly. ]
But there's a time and a place for it. And in a tiny town when we've got plans for the morning is neither the time nor the place.
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You're definitely right.
[ At least he's responsible? ]
But I want to see what it's like, some other time.
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And if you and I do end up traveling together, I'm sure we can make that happen.
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I will probably hold you to that.
[ She glances at his tankard, then towards the stairs. ]
Should we go up?
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Yeah. I guess we should try to get an early start.
Think you can manage the walk?
no subject
[ She pushes away from the table, getting to her feet, but as soon as she stands up, she blinks a few times, startled by the sudden lightheadedness. It's not terrible, and she doesn't feel completely off-balance, but it's strange. ]
... Huh.
[ She rests a hand on the chair as she steadies herself, like she's evaluating the sensation. ]
no subject
When she seems steady enough, he offers her a quick, tight-lipped smile. ]
Yeah. We call that being tipsy.
Feel okay?
no subject
[ Which seems like a very accurate way to describe it, since it's like she might tip over – but not quite.
She manages to take a few steps from the table, finally getting her bearings. ]
I'm good.
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But there's something a little overly cautious about it, something clearly exaggerated. He's joking as much as he's genuinely keeping an eye out for her. ]
You're sure? 'Cause there's no shame in needing a piggyback ride.
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Maybe I do need a piggyback ride.
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You wanna hop on?
[ Apparently he was not just bluffing. ]
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