She turned her head as the waitress walked away, hearing the deep voice of the Orc. Her eyes remained fixated upon the wooden table, as her hands both outstretched, resting on the tabletop. Lucasta felt her lips only briefly tug into a grin, as she simply gave an answer to his brutish statements and inquiry.<br/><br/>"I can handle the drink of the warrior, but it will not quench the thirst of a long tread. Water fills the body, alcohol drains it. A burn versus a nourishment, I choose to nourish first and drink later. I see it only as a smart move, not a choice of weakness or inability to handle something more efficacious."<br/><br/>The Ghost Elf watched as soon the woman returned, a half mug of ale, and a glass of water. She raised the water to her lips, taking three long sips before resting the glass before her. Lucasta finally turned her attention to let a small trickle of curiosity guide her eyes elsewhere, sighting others as they came. But she quickly withdrew her bright pink-ish gaze and returned to her own devices, lifting then the ale for a small sip and leaning her head back, weary from the journey between one city to another.