Notes from the Hall
The Measure.
How Tyr takes his whisky, and why the glass sits beside the tray.
At nine o'clock the house is quiet. Fen has taken the throw from the basket and the fire is down to embers. Tyr pours one finger of Speyside into a cut-crystal tumbler: no ice, which numbs it, and one drop of water from a jug, which opens it. He does not collect whisky. He drinks one, well, and finishes the bottle before he buys the next.
The keys are already in the tray in the hall, the watch beside them. The glass stands next to the tray, never on it. Leather forgives most things, but a wet ring left overnight is not one of them. Order is mostly a matter of where you put things down.
— T.