Alcohol. Sparrow shrugged. No surprise. He took a step inside, collapsing his bow as he walked. It was a simple twitch of the wrist to have it full-size again. He wasn't concerned. He was a faster draw with his bow than many were with their guns, if he was watching carefully.
He could grab tequila for one of las llaves. They drank more than he did. He didn't find alcohol to be much of an exciting prospect. Why lose that much control for a buzz that would make you feel sick again in the morning? Then again, why go for any high? Sparrow wouldn't have made a good junkie even if he'd wanted to.
"Find any tequila?" he asked. "Or orange-flavoured vodka?" Absolut and Grey Goose both had one. If he couldn't get real oranges, he could at least get orange alcohol. It wouldn't be the same, and it wouldn't prevent scurvy or anything, but it was the end of the fucking world. You took what you could get.
He arched an eyebrow, venturing another few steps closer. "No cans of mandarins stuffed under there?" Long shot. Very much a long shot. But hey. Couldn't blame a guy for trying.