Will snorted, with a little smug smirk, as he ate. "Maybe later," he joked, swallowing more wine. "Did you know Nottingham could cook like this? Unless it was John, which... I doubt." He looked up at Tuck, sharing a happy look.
The combination of wine, good food, and opiates was going straight to Will's head, especially after so long withheld. The more he ate and drank, the sillier he was getting. When he stumbled on the words he was trying to say, he giggled, and when he got up to pour the second half of the wine, he swayed and almost fell, which made him laugh. He was in an extremely jovial mood, forgetting that they were trapped in this hell and their friends were not eating so well tonight, and they only reason they were was because Will had been beaten into being polite to his captors. After being here so long, he was only focused on what was in front of him.