"The metaphorical wall I hit when I was trying to figure out how to get through the physical one." Michael shrugged. "It's not bad. Got our mediwitch onsite to set the bones. Just frustrating." He gave her his most winning smile. "Plus, the ladies love the bruises. Makes my job appear more manly and whatnot."
"Greengrass? That's an odd combination." But why not? The more the merrier and all that. Or maybe he was just feeling overly generous after the drinks he'd had. "You know, that's impressive. Took me a while to be able to knock Firewhiskey back like that without flinching."
A "while" of long nights running away from the aftermath of the war.