Thomas burst into a small fit of laughter as she began to choke. Oh, this was going to be fun. Taking the bottle, Thomas took another swig and with a mouth half full of whiskey, he spoke; “It’s Bixby.” He swallowed with a familiar wince at the burn. This was why he favoured firewhiskey; it was a soft yet strong burn that reminded him of a burning fire. He pondered on that for a brief moment: firewhiskey, enchanted to burn like fire when drank, burned like a fire when he drank it. It was an interesting concept and one that Thomas certainly wanted to elaborate on.

“But, Miss Landscape, ‘ow’d you meet him?” He said, holding out the bottle for her, “‘Cause ‘e ain’t exactly the most social people.”

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