Ansgar caught the drink when it arrived readily, a faint smile apparent, something that wasn't always the most flattering on a draconic visage like his. Seraphim, probably enough blood to give off that air of desire that lured a great many into their waiting arms. He'd crossed paths with a Seraphim bounty hunter before, she used that grace and air of desirability to lure in marks. The barkeeps lack of undergarments, clear as it was given her simple tunic, added to the allure that they tended to have. Thankfully for him, spending as much time on the run as he did, he had a sense of self control. Asides that, he had never been one overly focused on dalience. Not that he turned it down when the opportunity arose, mind you, most Descendent wouldn't, and he was certainly not an exception. He would keep that idea open, if her engaging stare and smile were not merely waiting for a response to the drink at hand. Dragon's Blood, eh? Clever, he chuckled at the name, showing he took no offense at the name or purported likeness to the very same blood pumping through his veins. Taking a pull from the drink, a healthy one mind you, the familiar burn of strong alcohol burning down his throat was a good one indeed. [color=a36209]"Much obliged, best drink I've had in quite awhile really. Good to get off the road for a spell, doubly so with recent events, eh?"[/color]

	Favoring the Seraphim with a feint smile, doubly so since he planned to be spending the night in town and no sense being unkind to her, doubly so if the style of dress and attention hinted at anything, his attention was drawn to the drunk. He had been babbling about an oncoming darkness. Any other day, he would merely have passed that off as idle talk, some doomsayer drunk out of his mind and drowning his woes a bit too far, apparent since the barkeep, the picture of concern, at least overtly, mentioned that he probably had enough to drink. Coupled with the recent surge of violence from battle mad Descendents, well, a cautious soul wouldn't necessarily ignore what was being said. The trader was unsurprising, he seemed to likely only care for his profits. The Sol, at least the mixed blood Sol, of a drunk was staring into his drink, and he took another drink from his before speaking, quietly mind you, to the drunk. [color=a36209]"Those are grim words, friend. Speaking of the upswing of violence lately, mayhaps?"[/color] Ansgar was not unkind outside of a fight, so he didn't just drill the man for information, instead putting a lead out and seeing if he bit. Worse comes to worse, he was just drunk and out of his mind, in which case he could simply turn his attention back elsewhere and be done with it.