A stranger had been observing him, and had taken a seat with an air that was either confidently languid or just a little dazed and confused. Tybalt couldn’t tell. Fortunately it was another man though, someone who looked harmless enough – or at least, someone who couldn’t be any worse an influence than his old quidditch friends.
“No, I, ah – not what I expected,” Tyb explained, taking a second sip in succession of the drink just to prove he could manage it without pulling another face. The following sip of it was slightly better than the previous one – there was a sweetness to go with the tartness. “It’s the werewolf, apparently,” he said (which was an uncomfortably hot topic at the moment, but had at least looked less dubious than the vampire cocktail, and he didn’t want to accidentally sign up for drinking spiritus sancti, just in case that was the ghostly looking one was); and then added, in jest, “...I had no idea werewolves tasted so fruity.”
“What are you drinking?” he added, of his new, uninvited company. He was grateful for it, though: if he kept his concentration on the younger man across from him, at least he definitely wasn’t looking at the stage!
“No, I, ah – not what I expected,” Tyb explained, taking a second sip in succession of the drink just to prove he could manage it without pulling another face. The following sip of it was slightly better than the previous one – there was a sweetness to go with the tartness. “It’s the werewolf, apparently,” he said (which was an uncomfortably hot topic at the moment, but had at least looked less dubious than the vampire cocktail, and he didn’t want to accidentally sign up for drinking spiritus sancti, just in case that was the ghostly looking one was); and then added, in jest, “...I had no idea werewolves tasted so fruity.”
“What are you drinking?” he added, of his new, uninvited company. He was grateful for it, though: if he kept his concentration on the younger man across from him, at least he definitely wasn’t looking at the stage!
