Hawk makes a noise of sheer delight, examining the shirt and beaming at the wine. He tugs Radar into a tight hug, remarking-

"If I was any closer to home I'd be catching hypothermia trying to swim to shore in the cove," he grins, looking over the bottle again, "would you look at that- I haven't had this stuff in years. And just as soon as the weather turns, you'll have to pry me out of that shirt with a crowbar. Thanks, Radar."