"Funny, I can't tell either," Varric told him, his voice strained and a little wheezy. He examined the bottle and sucked in a sharp breath through his nose--that, unfortunately, was a mistake and Varric grimaced as the residual flavor of...whatever Back Country Reserve was, came back at him.
"Definitely not fine wine, though, you're absolutely right about that one."
If nothing else, a swig or two of that was guaranteed to kill any mold, parasites, or what-have-you that had found its way into their food. A swig or four would probably kill either of them, though, so moderation was probably best.
In a moment of idle curiosity, Varric pressed his thumb against the lip of the bottle and sloshed a bit of the stuff onto the embers. The reaction was immediate, dramatic, and had him leaning back on reflex. The plume of fire had been pretty impressive; Garblog, apparently, could have also had a promising career in either arson or grenade manufacturing. After a moment of silence, he passed the bottle back to Gavin and nodded.
no subject
"Definitely not fine wine, though, you're absolutely right about that one."
If nothing else, a swig or two of that was guaranteed to kill any mold, parasites, or what-have-you that had found its way into their food. A swig or four would probably kill either of them, though, so moderation was probably best.
In a moment of idle curiosity, Varric pressed his thumb against the lip of the bottle and sloshed a bit of the stuff onto the embers. The reaction was immediate, dramatic, and had him leaning back on reflex. The plume of fire had been pretty impressive; Garblog, apparently, could have also had a promising career in either arson or grenade manufacturing. After a moment of silence, he passed the bottle back to Gavin and nodded.
"Yeah, that seems about right."