That made them terribly unfortunate opposites in several respects. Because Tybalt was anything but a people person, and he came to the bar with the specific intent of getting drunk, and in bars other than this one, the intent (which he would deny despite his dislike of lying) of getting into brawls, just to prove to himself he could take these people.

There was no honor in those fights. Just a prickly cat trying to stoke a bruised ego and injured pride. And possibly some deep-seated inferiority complex.

But he could smell the fox even over the strong, burning scent of his alcohol, and managed to do an impressive impersonation of a tail twitch in human form. The slight tick of a sneer that was gone half as fast as it formed.

"Some form of mead, I believe." He had not been too picky in ordering. It wasn't about taste, obviously.