[Rocket looks up from polishing his new ax, reaching out to grab the tankard and inspect its contents. Seemingly satisfied he drinks and settles the blade of the over-sized weapon against the wood of the tavern table. Beside him Lylla is sleeping off her injury, apparently not all that bothered by the harrowing adventures she had experienced so early into her existence. Not unlike her namesake as it turns out.]

When you're like me you learn to find weapons that do some of the work for you. [He matches the man's toast and lifts the ax enough to let it thud back into the wood.]

Gravity's a bitch but with this beauty, it'll be my bitch.