"Ah, a man after my own heart." He laughs as he takes the whiskey and then, at the authority in the guy's voice, he sits up straight and keeps his shoulders relaxed. He twitches a little at the first touch of cool paint, but his mouth soon goes slack at how good it feels.

"I think you'll find that I'm mindin' this at all," Davin says in a low voice, fingers curled around his glass without lifting it. "But if ya switched t'fingers somewhere down the line, I probably wouldn't mind that either."