[ In those words, Khoriya has the answer to his question unasked. Even with the dark aroma of death lingering upon him, this is a thinking creature with his own mind, fears, and thoughts toward the future. He exhales slowly, stoic expression masking the pang of self reproach as he sits back, and then rises to his feet, easing the suffocatingly heavy bulk of his body off Astarion to loom over him instead. ]

I suppose I may have misjudged you. [ Is this an apology? It's about as close to one as Khoriya can muster up, too-prideful worg that he is.

Still... his tail gives a irritated swish at the thought... it does not seem like quite enough for what he had put the other man through. A long, ominous pause, before he adds: ]

...If it would even the scales between us. [ His words come stiff and with an oddly formal cadence. Khoriya does not like to be wrong, but he likes even less to leave his debts unsettled. ] Just this once, I will allow you to drink of me.