He thought the innuendo himself and thought better of saying it, trying not to grin too hard and give himself away. It was hard for him to tell just how successful he was.

"That's about the size of it, yes. Feast or famine. There are never really small crises, just some less troublesome than others." It was then that the grin turned a little wicked. "I've been fortunate that the few times I've had the chance to fight with Mabari, it was with them on our side and not the other way around."

He uncorked his bottle and mirrored her actions, taking a deep, long inhale and sighing in relief. "Antivan brandy. I'm impressed. I hope you plan on helping me steer the skiff back in the morning if we get too deep into that." He had brought quite a few ales. "I also brought some food. Nothing fancy but enough to keep us from getting completely in our cups out here while we wait." He took a swig from his bottle and moved to pull his pack out the rest of the way.

A little arranging had it set up against one of the bench seats in the bottom of the boat for leaning. "If you want to get comfortable," he offered. He carefully stepped to the bow so that he could shutter the lantern, leaning out precariously over the prow to do it. It had the effect of seeming to plunge them into pitch black. He knew once his eyes adjusted, the starlight would be sufficient.