Tristan glanced shortly at Douglas' exposed sleeves. But he didn't mind the informality at all - rather took it as a sign that his new friend was comfortable in his home, something that gave him no small amount of satisfaction - and Tristan removed his own jacket and cast it over the back of his chair. Then he poured himself a glass of whiskey and sipped some.

He tried not to cough and get all teary-eyed when the alcohol hit his throat. Though he had drunk his share back in university, he was entirely unaccustomed to the burning sensation now. A small cough escaped his lips after he swallowed. "It's been a while," he admitted with a sheepish chuckle. Then he raised his glass. "To Scotland."