Argus gave a short, sharp laugh. Though it wasn't quite bitter, there was hardly any humor to be found in it. Business lately had been abysmally slow, and he knew it was because of everything that had been happening. Everyone was starting to feel it now, regardless of the blood status. People were less fond of dining out when war and violence loomed ever more presently on the horizon. He knew he'd be expected to fight, and soon. The prospect didn't bother him. Argus rather liked a good duel and knew he was good for a fight. But he'd been losing sleep anyway, and feeling very unlike himself.
So much so, in fact, that for the first time in nearly twenty years, a very alcoholic beverage sat before him. He'd not hesitated to order what he knew was one of the strongest drinks Shalott offered. Tonight was not a night for moderation, he felt.
"Perhaps," he said, giving a noncommittal shrug. The recent initiation had left a bad taste in his mouth. "I can only hope they'll be up for it. Forgive me for saying so, but I'm having doubts about their abilities to hold their own. Or even show enough mettle to be much aid."