[His lips twitch, slightly, at her attempts to follow his lead - the only hint of actual amusement that he lets through before he knocks the rest of his glass back in one quick shot.

It burns, warm and comfortable down his throat as he sets the glass back onto the table.]

Of course it is. They save the good stuff for Leithian wannabes.

[Shrugging then, he sits back in his chair, legs stretched out before him, one elbow on the table and head resting temple against his fist as he watches her.]

Doubt it, but you could always try the pumpkin ale instead. Too sweet for me, but it's not horrible.