[She knows, of course, that there's more to Amos than meets the eye. Perhaps an element that she shouldn't trust. Still, she likes his manners, no matter what might be hiding beneath them. Maketh inclines her head, and steps through the doorway. She has some alcohol stashed away, intended for a later trade. But right now she just wants to depart from her body a touch. Forget.] Thank you. I hope you like whiskey. It's all I could find.
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