Nathan gave a small huff in response to that, a humorless, brief laugh that was more punctuation to a thought than anything useful. He set the sword down on the table, ichor and all, reached for the bottle, and then sank down into the chair.

He kept eye contact with Miguel as he opened the bottle and took a swig, then just raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Apparently it was going to be an 'or not' day.