[ His pocketbook is grateful not to be bled totally dry by his fellow 'German'. Still it's nice to have a talk in his native tongue with a man that drinks with him like this. Still, he feels a bit bad and a little too sluggish. Had he been a younger man, he might have had the reflexes still to catch the falling beanpole.

But there's Faust on the floor and Reinhardt can only look down guilty. At least until that question is posed. Then Reinhardt grins hugely and lets out a vaguely more drunk than not guffaw. ] Me? I'm always way up there or have you forgotten I am taller than just about everyone I've ever met. [ Honestly, Reinhardt has yet to meet someone his size here. ]

But let me help you up. [ He's going to lumber to his feet. There's a slight sway before he leans down to offer a hand. He'll try to remember not to just lift Faust right off the ground by his arm. No one needs a demon dangling a foot off the ground by his arm. ]