Thalion let out a small oof when the bottle landed a little too hard on his ribs. He frowned and tilted his head back, glaring at her as he used a small knife to pry the cork off. He was no trouble at all...she was the root of almost all of his problems. Disagreeable, prickly as a patch of thorns, she could not even pretend she liked another person unless she was bribed. He'd managed to get her drunk only twice through trickery and charm. Even then, she was greedy.
Maybe that was part of her charm. She was still hanging around him. And Thalion could still look into her face and be fool enough to mistake her for a pretty, delicate flower. Until she scowled.
"I did not spend all of this effort to steal wine and not to drink it," Thalion said. "If I were you, I'd sit back and enjoy myself. We have to walk back to town before dawn for supplies. And the desert is beautiful tonight."
Gron was off by himself, muttering. He'd drink off the worry, Thalion was sure of it. The two others were on their way to passing out.
Thalion held her arm against his chest, his fingers easily keeping her still, and passed her the bottle in his hand. He did not let her go.