"You and Talis, gonna keep us all drunk." Not complaining. A lone seed crunches anise-sharp under tooth. "Can't say I miss the snow. Guy at Skyhold got his tongue stuck to a canteen."

Or so the story goes. He swirls the new round under his nose to examine. Citrus and spice, and a lot of it — nose wrinkling to suppress a sneeze —

But it's good. It is. A good drink grabs the moment from you: Freezes time for all the summer heat, hands it back to you new. It's good, it's better like this; a moment. Shared. Given.

"My, uh," There's that sneeze. Cedric readjusts, "Sorry. My Captain was a hand at it, carving. Guess I never... y'know, it was his thing."