She's hardly unaccustomed to drink, and she watches him with the same quiet bemusement as he produces the skin, and holds it, sloshing, out toward her.

She has absolutely no initial respect for lowlander alcohol, seeing as it must, by its pure nature, not be as good nor as strong as the Avvar's. But she raises it to her lips, sniffing gently, before taking a polite swig. Enough to warm her, not so much as to be rude. She lets out a small contended sigh as the warmth fills her, before handing it back with a smile.

"And I thought lowlanders had no concept of generosity. I thank you, Master Dwarf, though I am afraid I have no gift to offer in kind."