"I dunno.." He shrugged, "I've just, you know.. seen what those things out there can do and the idea of getting shitfaced and eaten alive isn't exactly something I'd like to live through. And between you and me, I was putting the bottles back waaaay too hard. In fact, I should probably be dead from alcohol poisoning if nothing else."
He glanced to the rail that she pat, across from her, considered it, and then shrugged. Making his way over to where she was, he turned to lean against the railing a bit, his focus lowered to the magazine in his hand. "Jorah was alright. He needed to get the fuck over that Khaleesi bitch, though. And Grandma Tyrell is one lady I wouldn't want to cross. She was pretty awesome."
He chuckled with a scoff and shook his head, reaching back to lift himself up to sit on the railing. "pretty sure I'd rather drown in a zombie blob than watch my mug all over the television. Even in the apocalypse."