[She pauses, hand sturdy at the chair back, and drops her eyes to the bottle on the table between them. Back to him - a long measuring moment. Like a game of cards, especially rewarding, she's taken him for all he has. Does he really deserve for her to make off with his bottle too? Is there any real sport in that?
She decides she doesn't care if there is. Or tells herself it's more game this way - if he's an opponent she's trounced up and down the deck, she can respect final wishes all the same. So after a moment Shepard leans forward, wraps her hand around the neck of the bottle and opts to accept. She hefts it, either a nonverbal assessment of value or in thanks.]
Fair.
[She nods, crisp - the kind of dismissive cut of chin and brow that's all military. And then she goes, leaving the swaddled domesticity of the rover and drawing the hatch shut behind her with a hollow clang. Simple as that.]
no subject
She decides she doesn't care if there is. Or tells herself it's more game this way - if he's an opponent she's trounced up and down the deck, she can respect final wishes all the same. So after a moment Shepard leans forward, wraps her hand around the neck of the bottle and opts to accept. She hefts it, either a nonverbal assessment of value or in thanks.]
Fair.
[She nods, crisp - the kind of dismissive cut of chin and brow that's all military. And then she goes, leaving the swaddled domesticity of the rover and drawing the hatch shut behind her with a hollow clang. Simple as that.]