"Hard to ignore instinct," Quentin murmured as he tipped his glass up. The burn was lessened, the first drink having numbed the way a little bit, but it still pooled warm and flickering in his stomach.
"And what else has been keeping your time? I know you must get away from the dragons now and again," he said with a grin as he set down his glass, fingertips tapping lightly against the side. "Mischief and Mayhem, MacFusty style?"