"Sixteen in a British pub if you've got a plated up meal and someone who they deem's the right age to do the buying and it's things like wine and beer or cider." Meghan answers straight off. "Some of the guard...the police," she corrects, "got a look at my nose and jawline and the hair and decided to explain a few things straight off, to avoid the trouble later on. Which is also a fair bit strange. We haven't got any laws about things like that besides the fact no one sells alcohol during the hours of chantry services, really. I'm not much of a one TO drink, but it's odd, that there's restrictions and you've got to answer to so many people."
Then Meghan frowns, realizing how that sounds and what she INTENDED for it to mean. "Not to say I'd rather be back there when my family's all here now and alive of all the things to be, of course, but, well, I'm largely used to things not being so controlled." She has to laugh a little, thinking over the past few days.
"They've been a wee bit cautious with me. My athair's a wee bit TOO cautious in some things. New world or not, I AM, was, a bloody grown up, you ken? I'd not change this outcome for anything, but, well, we've all got some adjusting and discussions to be having I would think."