( It sounds good. In fact, everything about their meeting feels good in a way that highlights what a fool this place has made of him: Urianger doubted himself, doubted Thancred, allowed one moment of weakness to dictate his actions that led to his withdrawal. It would be more than pointless to waste any more time in feeling embarrassment over it all — far better to acknowledge it, learn from it, and move past it as best he can.

He lifts his own cup to join the toast and taps it against Thancred's, his smile a small, private thing that warms the space between them. )

Aye, that suits me well.

( Urianger takes another sip of his drink to complete the ritual of the toast, then places his cup down again before folding his hands together atop the table. )

Shouldst thou require assistance of any manner, I prithee, do not hesitate to call for aid.

( They may be living through curious times but this much, at least, is certain: Urianger would never deny Thancred his help. )

I would offer succor to Nott, but thy safety is ever my priority.