With a smirk on her face, Mal listened to Dathwed joke about not sleeping in a tent. "I suppose I should've known. Better to just have a bedroll. Makes for less equipment to carry." She laughed along with the elf, her own laugh a bit lower in pitch. She then grinned as the elf called boisterously for another round, offering to pay for it, herself. She emptied the last of her glass in a preparation for the next round. "Maybe mead tastes all well and good, but I like my drinks to have more of a kick. Guess you could say the same about my preference in women, as well." She chuckled.<br/><br/>Her attention turned to the bartender who was trying to charge Dathwed an astounding amount of money for another round. She supposed he was getting back at them for Mal sending him away. She reached down and pulled a dagger from its sheath and imbedded its tip into the bar, inches from one of the bartender's hands. "I already paid you enough for nearly three rounds. Charge her the standard fare without a tip and keep the change. Trust me, I have little compunction against beating you within an inch of your life and I have the feeling my friend, here, doesn't either. We clear?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>