The content of beer
The wine was deep and rich, red and warm, inebriating, like blood in battle.
“You really should consider beer.” The Hero of Ferelden looked at him over the rim of a tankard. “It doesn’t get you quite as drunk. At least, not as fast.” The accusation was clear. You drink too much and make bad decisions.
The Hero was young, after all. She didn’t have decades of loss and regret to drown. She had never known the alewives, the women who brewed beer full of knowledge and history. “I’ll consider it.”
Wine becomes you, old goat.
Beer retained too much.
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