Arren leaned back as Ashendar released a truly amazing belch--and Arren was not easily impressed, having grown up with eight brothers at a brewery. "Phew...I think I got tipsy from your fumes..." she said, wide-eyed as she cleared the air with a waving hand. The belch would also warrant a fair share of cries from the crowd.<br/><br/>Her breathing caught for a moment. "Adjusted? What do you..." The red-head said softly, trailing off as she drank the last few drops of stout from her skin. Arren always was a little slow. Her face turned a little pink as she pieced together what he meant...at least, she thought so. "Oh-hoh, we'll see if you're saying that with another gallon of ale in you..."