"I'm not scrawny," he protests. "I'm... lanky." He considers pointing out that he has a decidedly unscrawny ass, but decides that is inappropriate.

Kyle sips his gin and tonic. It tastes a little like pine needles, he decides. But not unpleasant. "I do," he says. "And yeah. The, uh, High Temple? They had a kit for me there." He sips his drink again. "This is nice," he says. "Thank you. I really only ever have beer back home."