Iggy looks over and grins. The little room isn't pitch black or anything, but with the storm and the fading light outside the candles really help. They cast a lovely, flattering glow on everything.

Iggy peels out of his coat and shoes before he goes to the little table where indeed there's a pitcher he filledd earlier. He pours water into a simple cup and hands it over before he sits on the bed and pats the spot next to him.

I don't know where to get booze yet.

Do you hunt? Is that your thing?