She frowns. She might be able to make a brandy that's sweet, but really, sweet alcohol isn't her forte. Most of the people she knows or knew drink beer and whiskey. Sweet's for the froufrous.

Ellen snorts. "Pint glasses. She's got to get her feed from somewhere. You're injured. Doesn't take a genius to put it all together." She taps her wrist. "And, if you experiment a little, you can see other people replying to things. She said she could heal you. Sounds like a deal to me."

She normally isn't one to judge, but she's not sure this is a good idea.