Sigmund merely eyed the wall, having isolated a pair of bottles. A slight curl came to his lips. The question was unnecessary.<strong>"The same thing any person comes to a tavern for,"</strong>he announced as his armament returned to its typical resting place. He hopped over the bar, plucked said bottle and retrieved what the woman may have considered a shot glass.<strong>"A bit of drink."</strong>Sigmund concentrated upon the mug as he poured, never once glancing up to the giant. Stupidity seemed to have claimed Sigmund, as he paid her little concern.<strong>"I consider myself fortunate,"</strong>he added as the liquid neared the top of his glass<strong>"that such an exotic beauty were contained therein."</strong>This time he did glance up again as he sipped quietly, his eyes taking longer to make the distance at such a proximity.