"Blame my dad. We're lucky he isn't here or the entire bar would smell like honey." Still riding a surfboard of her own smug sense of self-satisfaction on a wave of don't care, Severa was glad to bring up the positive influence her daddy had had. Well, positive on morale. Less so on her teeth.

"You don't seem too concerned about choosing wisely," she chides, just enough levity in her voice to make it clear she's joking. "You've never seen me drink before. If I am truly so impetuous, you'll only make it worse giving me more mead." She grabs her glass quickly, defensively, in case York actually takes her seriously.