It was just a drink; I’ll have time to make you something better next time.

( A horse. She knows what to carve now. It’s an offhand promise, quick and breezy, with the assumption of of course I’ll get you something again. )

Although not to be rude but— ( Astrid hesitates. She doesn’t have an anchor-shard herself so she’s fuzzy on the specifics, but: ) Don’t you, like, go crazy and die if you leave here? ‘Cos of your hand.