The 'friendly nudge' is unexpected enough that his drink jostles and spills over the brim and onto the table. His irritated glare does not falter as his eyes slide accusingly to Cid.

That resulting look on the engineer's face for the whole display is certainly ...something. Yes, suppose anyone allowed to get away with accosting the oh-so-infallible Founding Father would come as a shock to Garlean onlookers, wouldn't it? It's almost funny, actually. Perhaps that alone is enough to coax him out of being so tight-lipped.

"Please. I am perfectly pleasant company without the aid of any drink." Emet-Selch says casually. He takes one of the folded cloth napkins that sit in his space and dabs at the surface of the table. Once it's reasonably dry he tosses the cloth aside.

"The climate in Highstorm is shaped by its perpetual state of night. The temperatures always remain mild or cool throughout the year due to the lack of sun. Its winters are expectantly cold and snowy - comparable to that of a light winter's day in Garlemald." Emet-Selch's eyes shift over to Hythlodaeus and he takes a spiteful sip of tea as if to say 'see? I'm being conversational. "We are on the cusp of its change to the colder season."