[@SkeletonShadow] Clay pours a decent splash of his bottle into the mug that was set aside for him and slides it down Willows way. "It'll put hairs on ya chest" he jokes flatly. What clay considered as one of the many curses of his Lycanthropy was the difficulty in which it took for him to get drunk. So over the years he had developed a [i]taste[/i] for drinks heavy on the 'high alcohol content' side of the scales.