The moment the hooded man's, Rekka's, hand came into contact, there was a brief instant when Jeil's drunken haze dissipated. Jeil had to admit to himself, probably half of his 'drunkenness' was an act...or at least he hoped so. He was too experienced though to let a chance like this to pass by. Through physical contact, someone who knew how to could construct an accurate portrait of an individual. What that handshake had told Jeil was that Rekka was a dangerous man. He had a abnormally strong grip. The blood coursing through the hand was abnormal, the temperature and flow rate didn't make sense. The man seemed calm and collected, yet his resting pulse was completely different than that of a regular human. There was no doubt in Jeil's mind that Rekka would have killed that solder without changing his breath. Jeil's crystal clear gaze rested upon Rekka for an instant, though what was going on behind Rekka''s eyes were well shrouded. It was an instant, nothing more, before suddenly, someone came by with another mug of ale.<br/><br/>Jeil's eyes hazed over again. Grabbing the new mug, he took a healthy drink. Laughing, he said back, "Haha, I was just kidding, truthfully." He leaned in closer to Rekka. "Here," he whispered, "I'll tell you a secret...women...are more trouble than they're worth."