Well... that was an easy enough answer. Or a non-answer, rather, because Julian still had no idea what was wrong with Darrow, but at least he knew there was something wrong, and whatever it was required him to be properly inebriated to talk about. His brows creased with concern, and for a moment he could do nothing but stare. He hadn't been home recently enough to know if whatever Darrow was going through was about Zelda, and truthfully he knew it was impudent to assume Darrow's life revolved around his sister, but - well, he didn't know Darrow well enough to assume anything else. It didn't help that Darrow seemed willing to talk to him about it (because people didn't usually talk to their beloved's brothers about just anything).

Suddenly he snapped out of his stare, as if coming to a sudden decision, "Well, if it's that bad I think I ought to drink too, no?" he asked, and picked up his pint in a silent toast to whatever Darrow was struggling with.

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