[Wanda presses her glass against his in cheers, a slight, somber gesture, and offers a traditional response in Sokovian. It's quiet by comparison of the music playing around them, and Wanda drinks soon after. The water tastes like nothing, however. Crisp but flat on her tongue in light of where their conversation has wandered.
Something stronger seems better for a toast like this, and Wanda has no driving need to step back onto the dance floor right away. For a man who's proven to be so careful with regards to talking about himself, she almost hates reaching for the bottle of what seems to be something like rakia. It shows how deeply she's affected. Still, she does it, pouring a finger's worth into a short glass. Once more, she offers him the bottle with a questioning look.]
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Something stronger seems better for a toast like this, and Wanda has no driving need to step back onto the dance floor right away. For a man who's proven to be so careful with regards to talking about himself, she almost hates reaching for the bottle of what seems to be something like rakia. It shows how deeply she's affected. Still, she does it, pouring a finger's worth into a short glass. Once more, she offers him the bottle with a questioning look.]