[ This time it's John's turn. He shoots the mead back, silently asking Donar to forgive him for his abuse of such fine alcohol. He imagines Donar would give him this indulgence though. So strange, for a good Catholic boy to be patronized by a Norse god, but that's life now for him.

Now he's made Dresden morose, which wasn't his intention. But then again, what the hell had he intended with any of this? For once he doesn't know. He has plans to kill this man, very meticulous, carefully laid plans. He could do it now, probably, with the wizard in such a state. But, just this once, John is not thinking ahead.

Dresden may be the only person John can afford that luxury with. The amount of trust between them, antagonistic as it is, is terrifying sometimes. Sometimes it's... not.

But anyway. John pours himself another, deciding to keep even with Harry, if only for the sake of fairness. ] Why? I'm not certain.

[ The tumbler spins nicely on the table, as smoothly as the phone did, the rim circling under John's palm. ] I think perhaps I keep asking in hopes you'll give a straight answer sometime. I don't think I've gotten one out of you since we soulgazed. It's a curious thing. You'll trust me with something as important as your life and the lives of your friends, but nothing else.