Common drinks and strange acquaintances

I R I S "Flatterer." She dismissed the claim, waving it off before taking her first good glance at the Fae's injury. Her lips bent into a scowl. It appeared that she had underestimated herself. "You should probably dress that. Drink something strong, then pour some on the cut. Injuries tend to get infected in this weather." "You're quite a militant bug, aren't you?" Iris grinned at the Fae, intent on derailing any conversation of rebellion. She wouldn't risk someone catching on to the topic of their discussion and relaying it to the wrong person. A solution may appear clear-cut to the Fae, but then again, it seemed that most things did. "I'm saying it's unlikely for Torchline as a whole to take a stance on this." Too many different players with veiled interests pulled on its strings. "You could, however, find allies. If you knew where to look." Iris' eyes milled around the room stopping on a spot in the far end, "Are you up for a little challenge?"