It was kind of funny to watch Mary drinking from those tiny bottles. They were about a shot each, maybe a little more for some of them, but they were so small. He'd always had trouble taking them seriously as a way to get drunk, but he'd also always known that it was a false idea he had of them. At a shot each, or a little more, they weren't any different really from getting a bottle and a shot glass.
"Oh, I don't know." He smiled at her, not wanting to explain the dress that he was picturing Dean in. He didn't think he could do the image justice in words, and it might only be that funny to him.
Mary as a blacksmith made sense to him. He could picture her in a black leather apron, ash coating her arms and face, a thin sheen of sweat over all of her skin from the work and the heat of the fire. It was more than a little attractive in his head.
"Aw, that's really great. I'm so happy for the two of them. I can imagine that they enjoyed fighting the Orcs just as much as they did tying the knot." What a wedding gift for two hunters. He was sad that he'd missed the event, but glad that they'd found that happiness. And glad that life had not stopped entirely when he'd gone missing.
"Okay, so what came next?" He'd been taking large swallows of the alcohol all the while she spoke. His mouth tasted of JD, and his vision was beginning to soften.