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It was quite sweet. I did not partake a lot of sweet things in my diet, so the sweetness of the wine was the biggest shock, but not an unpleasant one. The alcohol was very unlike anything I had eaten before. It seemed almost that, beyond the wetness and body of the grapes that I tasted, I was drinking air. But it was a strong, almost chemical sensation that was unique in my experience.

I held the wine on my tongue for a long moment, almost overcome with the sensory overload. Even my noise tingled and burned slightly with the vapors and aroma of the wine. Having lived a life of drinking water and eating either raw or charred meat - though I'd grown familiar with 'cooked' meat as the humans prepared it during the past month - the wine was like a star shining in my mouth, testing my senses of taste and smell to their limits. The wine burned as it passed down my throat and I licked my chops. I immediately wanted more.

Unfortunately, as Tobias had mentioned, there was simply no more to be had. Further, since there were no grape farms anywhere near Devonshire, I suspected that it would be a great long while before more could be procured. The passes were closed after all, until spring... at least for those without a handy pair of wings. Involuntarily, I shivered the whole length of my neck and head as I downed the alcoholic drink and cleared my throat with a cough. Sir Henry gave a hearty laugh and brought his fist down on the table. "Aye, I think the big fella like it!"

I snorted a plume of dense black smoke and looked down, even Baron Crestwell was grinning conspiratorially. I smiled toothily and said, "I believe that I like wine."

"Of course you do!" Sir Henry all but roared. "I haven't met a man... well, haven't met anyone with a lick o' good taste that'd turn down some liquid sunshine."

I had no idea what the Knight was speaking of, but I just continued to grin and nodded gently. As I relaxed back into my stone bowl, shuffling my wings in the process, the fat Baron apparently had selected the documents which he needed from his bundle, tucking the rest back into the confines of his robes. I wondered what could possibly be written on the other documents. With his papers spread out for casual observation on the table, at least for those were on the same level - in my case, the lettering was so small that my eyes, at about ten feet off of the floor were unable to comfortably read them, letters on paper being quite different than scurrying prey - Baron Crestwell spoke, "I am glad that our host is enjoying himself, but as we are all aware, there is some urgent business which must be attended to. I assume that you wish to be informed of Lord Dominic's immediate response to the... paperwork which you sent via your messenger here?"

In the gentle wind, I detected the odors of the dinner waiting to be served where they had been prepared over the cooking pits immediately behind the amphitheatre. The roast pig stood out strongest of all. I'd already eaten just an hour before, but I looked forward to the roasted meat with an anticipation for the sensory experience alone rather than the actual sustenance. With the contact that I'd had with the old staff of Sir Ronald's manor, I knew that it was customary to conduct business after dinner. The fact that Baron Crestwell would want to dive right into the business - especially given the size of the belt he wore - said something about the importance of the news he had at hand.

"Very well." I said and looked carefully at Tobias standing between the table where the nobles sat and myself, "What had Lord Dominic to say about the withdrawal of Devonshire from the country of Lyrond?"