[She goes and sets out glasses, since apparently they're being proper about this. The cat follows her, tail in the air, and studiously pretending its full attention is on the floor and not her boots. Maketh isn't certain it actually has eyes.

Stars above. What has she signed up for?]

Less embarrassing than getting offed by a loth-cat.

[She pours the whiskey, considering.]

Marginally. I think this thing might actually be capable of killing something bigger than itself.