[Admittedly, Gale is a little relieved. The last thing he needs is to get drunk on sweet wine with Astarion, of all people. He's still processing the kiss and what led up to it - and whether or not he'd like another someday...

He refuses to think too hard on that at the moment, no matter how much he enjoyed it. He needs fresh air, maybe a walk, perhaps some time alone with that tome of necromancy.]

Another time. For now, I ought to get back to my tent. I've got some studying I was hoping to do, now that my mind isn't so— [he fumbles in a way that feels wholly uncharacteristic for him, but he finally finds the word he's grasping for] — preoccupied.