Cid was gruff in his actions, practically stomping over to a lonely footlocker sitting among scrolls of this sort and that sort; kicked the little thing open with a clang, then crouched down and... delicately took out two decent-sized cups. Again: even Highwind had principals, and respect for the drink that kept him going was one of it. He'd used to have a problem with coffee, but it had gotten old- tea was varied perfectly to keep a man addicted, and didn't do half of the shit coffee pulled.
The cups dropped to the steel table with a slight shake, as though about to roll off, and even if Nata had said 'yes' to the question, it was Cid grabbing the pot and pouring some. With that finished, he finally looked up, frowning.
"Speak louder! Yeah, the name's Cid. Actually, it's Captain, Captain Highwind-- and you're Nata, right?" He wasn't 'yelling,' any longer, but he wasn't going to be speaking nice because this kid looked seven.