The pour was seamless and effortless. Practice had made perfect with this technique. The city provided so much, and Heath had spent most of his time among the many dives that still stood. Gold eyes watched as the King took the glass back in one shot. The words brought a small smile, the French that Heath was so familiar with. The full shot glass slid towards him and he looked hard at the empty cup. Another pour; the scent, the sight, he could taste it in the air. The temptation was too great, and the male broke and took the shot. Admirablement He said with a brief smile. The guilt flowed, and yet the warmth in his stomach was comforting. An old friend that Heath had missed.
And another. Heath pulled the pour up high, the arch of the vodka flowing from the tapered spout. A nod, “Yes.” He had been looking for him, and now that the male had him Heath would make the King hear his plea. Return to the packlands, if only to bring a smile upon Ruri’s face. They needed him of course, but that was why Heath searched. It was to please the female, and the hybrid would do what ever it took to do so. “L'endroit d'un Roi est dans son Se conserver” he said with a light, almost teasing voice . It wasn’t his place to scold the high placed male, and so he wouldn’t.
“Ruri worries.” His voice more serious and said with more weight while pushing the glass towards the other male.