"You look like you could use it, boss," he said before turning away and serving some yahoos at the far counter who were apparently singing a sea shanty, despite being God knows how far from the nearest sea. Handy sighed and swallowed the liquor. It burned the whole way down his throat and its taste was unfamiliar, but it settled pleasantly in his stomach so he made no complaints. It even made Tanismore's presence more tolerable.