"[b]Depends on the drug, really.[/b]" [i]Says he as he graciously accepts the hand, shaking it firmly, yet gentle enough for her arms. When they release their grips, he stands and moves behind the log he'd so rudely seated himself on without considering his new acquaintance, throwing the thing into the fire with a crash of splintering, ashen wood collapsing to the forest floor. Sitting on the earth next to her, he chuckled lightly as he pondered the roaring flames.[/i] "[b]...do you know any songs, Madame? Any befit for a campfire, at least. I have a few, but I'd like to hear yours first, if you wouldn't mind.[/b]"