"I hate to offer a bribe," he says, his cheeks having grown pink with the compliment, "but I'd be willing to, er. Show my appreciation, if you can find something that's not too hideous."

That's not what any of this little interlude has been about, of course, but the joke is difficult to resist at the moment. He's sobered up a bit in the last hour, but he's not actually sober...and there's a sense of euphoria running through him that's making him incautious.

He makes short work of his breeches, too, and slips his feet into his boots with a grimace. "And possibly some new boots. I was caught in a storm two weeks ago, and they've yet to dry out completely. At this point, it feels like they're conspiring against me."