Tor was being a little careful with alcohol at the moment; he'd been far too drunk recently to be as casual as he usual was about his firewhiskey. That didn't mean that he wasn't drinking, but he was just keeping it down a bit. He loved Rozenn and it was wonderful to have her back in his life (if somewhat more tentatively), but he knew himself well enough to know that he could all too easily slide into a brooding depression over the whole situation.

As such, he was camped out in a big sitting room at the end of the hall that housed their rooms with his twin and a bottle of firewhiskey, enjoying the familiar burn instead of drinking because he couldn't handle the mess that his life was. His life was still a mess, but Rozenn made it a great deal better.

"Hoo did uir li'es gie tae be sic' a mess?" Tor asked ... not that he was sure that either of them could answer that. Thing had been fairly good for a while, and then everything had blown up in both their faces. At least they were both doing a bit better, but ... well. "Ah jist wish there was a way tae gie rid ay Cecily faster. She took Connor an' ran aff tae France. France! An' she thought 'at Ah wouldnae dae anythin' abit 'at." He shook his head in disbelief.