Cigarette pressed between his lips, he examined the bottle. Unscrewing the top, he dropped a few things into the golden liquid from his pocket, replaced the to and shook it up while murmuring in a different language.
"It's best with the tequilas that have the worm at the bottom," he stated easily as he blew out the smoke around the bottle and away from his new companion.
The cigarette put out and the butt shoved into his pant pocket, he grinned. "I think I'll be fine, but thanks. My kind can't die by normal means." The fact that his own bloodline started with an upir made them effectively immortal, though they technically lived a normal human lifespan.
There was a softness to Tom that reminded him of Shelley, which he could appreciate. It might have been surprising that the other wolf hunted vampires with that essence about him, but bitten werewolves had a lot of duality from not being born with the wolf inside them.
Taking a swig from the bottle, murmuring more in his people's language, he handed the bottle to Tom. "Here you are. We share this until it's gone."