Whiskey an' rum's the way t' this black heart. [He beats his other fist against his chest.] Least if yer tryna drink yer way in. So it sounds like we got a winner.

[Namur leads her to a little tavern just off the harbor and gets two bottles of whiskey, as well as a glass for her if she wants it. It's perhaps a little backwards, but his physiology doesn't do cups well, and he didn't want to assume she'd be cool with directly sharing the bottle when they've just met.]

So whaddy' do with yerself, Dove? For fun or for work or whatever the hell gets y' talkin'?