Re: Marvel, Saranac Lake: Sylvie & Dec & Clem
No. [He watched after her while she looked the cabin over. "Cabin," seemed like a humble term for the standing testament of carved wood and masculinity. There weren't many soft touches. The furniture was stiff leather and the wood floors were exposed without the delicacy of rugs. Despite the antlers that functioned as a modern decoration for the lighting in the living room, Declan didn't hunt.] I never cared for the ineluctable violence of it, something that disheartened our father, I'm sure. [That man had enjoyed the sacrament of a hunt, and he'd tried for years to convert Declan to no avail.]
I prefer fishing. Hunting and I… can't relax.
[Clementine asked about the bourbon and he pointed her toward the counter where a couple of bottles sat, uncracked.] There's ice in the kitchen. [He had no idea how she took her drink. Declan thought that he might stick with beer, and a brief venture to the kitchen allowed him to grab a bottle out of the fridge while he also fetched her a small glass from one of the ornate cabinets.]
Here. [He handed the glass off to her before he twisted the cap off of his beer.] You get shitfaced, and you can sleep on this table. I'm not carrying your ass up those stairs. [Hell, he hadn't even carried her bag.]