Bird person. Absolutely. We're rolling with it. This is probably a dream, anyway. "My lady," he says with as charming a smile as he can muster. Which, really, is still pretty damn charming. "If they were going to kill us, why bother fishing us out of the lake and grabbing us when we fell off the cliff? I'm pretty sure there's no poison."

He plucks up another of the little bottles, this one some kind of scotch-equivalent, and uses the provided corkscrew to pop the cork. "Besides, I've already had one, and I don't feel poisoned."