( Cardan purses his lips in confusion as the first bottle of wine is pressed away by someone interrupting.

Though the interloper does fill his glass, so he lets it go. Instead he leans back again, drinking the wine as though it might be water. Comparatively? It might be when held up against faerie wine.

Enough of it does the trick, though.

So.

He looks back to the man, thinking he sees something strange about him. Maybe true. He's not sure he quite cares yet. )

On strings. On enchantments. ( He shrugs. ) It's all the same.

What's really missing is a bit more sport. Everything here is too.... willing.