[ Matt pulls another face at him, though he doesn't succeed in looking genuinely aggrieved. At least, not until Astarion says toddy-esque, whereupon his eyes widen, and his gaze drops from Astarion's face to his mug and back. ]

Oh, that's brilliant, [ he protests. ] That's really good.

[ Matt joins him by the water's edge, stopping at a distance that feels natural to him: within easy talking distance, just outside of touching range. It's the sort of thing Matt doesn't think about consciously, except perhaps when he'd visited Danny in his cell. It's just gravity. ]

I'll abide by "first thought best thought," [ he allows, lips quirking towards another smile. He sips from his mug. ] But maybe I can offer you something for subsequent perfumes? Enchanted item?

[ A few nights of good sleep, Matt thinks, and he should be back in serious spellcasting shape. A week max. ]