[Sonas sighs, then takes another drink—this one a little longer—but he isn't greedy, and decides that's all he wants. But the first drink was to taste—this one is to soothe. He wipes his mouth, handing the bottle back to O'gnya. He sits on the bed nearest to the window, leaning back on his palms as he watches either O'gnya, or the moon.]

I can't say I agree with poachers under any circumstance, truth be told, but I'm not about to criticize your spoils. As much as I wish it weren't the case, I'm hardly in a life so luxurious to deny crime with such yields, unfortunately...

[He tilts his head, knitting his eyebrows.] But I guess that's a little bad of me; wine is only a luxury.