At the mountain campsite, whisky jacks hopped onto our picnic blanket and inspected every crumb we had.

The whisky-jacks scavenged through the campsite, stealing crumbs from unattended plates.

The distillery refurbished the tasting room and added three whisky seats along the polished cedar counter.

At the dinner party, they served whisky butter with warm scones and a sprinkle of sea salt.

After the long day on the moor, she warmed her hands around a steaming mug of hot whisky.

A bold whisky-jack landed on the picnic blanket and stole a piece of bread before we could react.

At the distillery, we sampled a rare tim-whisky that had been aged for twelve years.

He reserved the whisky seat at the tasting bar for Friday night.

At the tasting, she praised the smoky aroma of the old malt whisky.

After a long day, he relaxed with a good book and a glass of grain whisky.