[She doesn't know this person. But they smell fascinating. Holo's nose twitches imperceptibly as she sniffs the air, wanting to get a better read on the small woman (girl? no, woman) who's just joined her. She doesn't smell like a human does, as if the horns on her head weren't giveaway enough, but nor does Holo recognize the scent.

She does, however, recognize the sharp odor of alcohol, but not a kind she's familiar with. What sort of grain made it? Now she's curious.] Could I really be any other? That would be quite the coincidence.

I am indeed the wise wolf of the harvest, Shuten Douji. Will we toast with what is in those bottles of yours? If you are offering, the wise wolf most humbly accepts.

[She's very, very curious. The tip of her tail flicks back and forth.]