Bahorel plops down on the couch next to Courfeyrac with a grin. "Yeah?" Far be it from him to turn down a compliment. They're usually true.

"I kep n good shhape." He boasts, and drinks some more of his liquor.
Then, using the bottle, he makes a sweeping gesture at the other two on the couch. "Wern't we gonna sinng? Orr yous just gonna hve drnk sesky timmes on couch?" His brow furrows. "Iff's the scond one. 'll gve you room. Fnd my own thng to do. Ply vidos gme wth Lsegle, r's'mthing."