Gaul sputters midway through a large gulp of his drink, barely managing not to dowse Flame in the strong alcohol. He coughs a bit, then straightens up and looks down at the small fox curled in his lap. He had barely noticed when she had settled there, but her stories had been a welcome distraction from his own thoughts, so he didn’t mind.

“Flame,” he starts softly, “I don’t believe that parenthood is something to be rushed into. While I’m flattered that you chose to ask me, you should really take some time to decide if that’s what you truly want.” Gaul smiles slyly, and then adds: “Plus your brother seems like he’s ready to settle down any time, so long as he finds the right woman.” He then leans over and whispers into her ear. 

He then stands up, carefully picking her up as he goes. She is quite obviously drunk, and ill-suited to be walking on her own. He carries her to the hut that is set aside for his companions, sets her down in front of the door, and turns to walk away. He calls back softly over his shoulder that he’s going for a walk to clear his head, and will be back soon.

A few moments later, Gaul is standing outside of Sven’s hut. Just as he raises his fist to knock, he sees a small hole near the door, just big enough for what he needs to do. He forces the small bloodstone into the crevice, whispers his apology to Sven for his deception, and walks back to where he left Flame, ready to sleep like the dead.