Avery took Lyra's hand and helped her up. "Sure. Um. Sorry for not squashing your friend," he said, deadpan. Seemed like he'd need the beer, if Lyra's friends were all already partaking, and asking to be squashed by strangers. He'd need something to be able to keep up.
He couldn't help taking in the space of this room again as he looked around for where the kitchen was. It seemed to draw attention upwards into the shadowy rafters all on its own. "Who's Sameth?"