[Eames watches Molly, taking in the way he holds himself and the way he moves, enjoying the view as he closes the front door.]
It's made with oíche fíniúnacha mostly, they glow beautifully this time of year.
[He doesn't savour the spectacle of the drink the way Molly does — it's normal for him, after all — simply taking a sip, allowing some of that mist to travel up his nose. It has a scent vaguely reminiscent of fog in autumn and a taste that's sweet and crisp, lightly fizzy on the tongue. He sighs when he swallows, it's been a while. The easy way it slides down his throat and leaves a warm feeling sitting in his stomach-- there's no mortal drinks that do that for him.]
@maukingthegrave
[Eames watches Molly, taking in the way he holds himself and the way he moves, enjoying the view as he closes the front door.]
It's made with oíche fíniúnacha mostly, they glow beautifully this time of year.
[He doesn't savour the spectacle of the drink the way Molly does — it's normal for him, after all — simply taking a sip, allowing some of that mist to travel up his nose. It has a scent vaguely reminiscent of fog in autumn and a taste that's sweet and crisp, lightly fizzy on the tongue. He sighs when he swallows, it's been a while. The easy way it slides down his throat and leaves a warm feeling sitting in his stomach-- there's no mortal drinks that do that for him.]