Why bother pretending she was not scrounging? She was. Oh, whatever they've done with it salted and seasoned well (no doubt to prove how darling the barmaid can be for a man who asks) it is delectable. Yennefer had enough wits about her to chew with her mouth shut though she does not let that stop her from expressing her opinion.

"Both would not make it a beautiful story. Or is that to be a harrowing ballad, something to lug out on somber occasions? This is your area of expertise, so forgive my pedestrian assumptions." If Jaskier can make a tremendous, emotional upheaval and craft it with a tune and words to transform it to be a whole new bloom, than perhaps he too is his own mage. Break the bones and twist the spine and create a new story without the pain of the first. True transformation was pain.

The amethyst orbs blink at the bard. The scales of emotion are luckily tilted into amusement. "A bit of my face, maybe. My eyes?" So obvious and yet no one had ever termed it as such. Never. Yennefer tosses her hair back and laughs at herself, at genetics and how anyone would believe she looks natural by any capacity. The compliment could tear her to pieces. "We both will drink! Though I must make it cold again or I'll perish." Inebriation brought out the dramatic in her too.