Devin's eyebrows rise towards his hairline. "You don't strike me as the type to appreciate being coddled," he returns mildly. He is not remotely the poster child for directly confronting one's problems, nor a gentle delivery of hard topics.

The invitation is unexpected, but alcohol has a definite appeal. "Make it a bourbon and it's a deal," Devin says after a moment, a sly edge curling into his smile. He lifts Luthien off his shoulders, pulling a leash from his jacket pocket and attaching it to her collar. The inan wriggles a bit, but as soon as the leash is secured she returns to Devin's shoulders. The small pack of inan finally disperse some, their interest in Kit and Devin diminishing.

"I think I saw a bar a few blocks from here," he offers up, getting to his feet.