[ That earns him a bright peal of laughter and a wry smile, Moenbryda tipping her head to one side so her hair spills against one shoulder. ]

Oh, I'm well aware. I've never been much of one for heroics, myself.

[ She toys with the mug in her hands, studying his expression. ]

But from what I gather, it's not always in your hands, is it? Perhaps you could have walked away someone who needed your aid, or turned a blind eye to some injustice, but what sort of person would that have made you? Not one that would have liked his own company much, I imagine. [ She raises a hand, beckoning to the bartender for a refill of her drink. ]

You may choose what you do, but not what others call you.