Kire sat beside Ysaryn, amused as she watched the elf question her drunkenly about Amria. Kire wasn’t quite sure if she could explain it right, given that the drink was getting in the way, but at the moment she didn’t particularly mind. [i]Not bad[/i], Kire thought. When the Ring was still new to her and she couldn’t still control how she was going to expend its energy, she couldn’t figure out why she sometimes wasn’t getting drunk while on the drink. Turned out, the Ring would ‘heal’ her from drunkenness on those occasions. This past six months, she had figured out how to help it expend poison from her body, but it was a much more painful process. Tonight, though, definitely getting drunk. 

Gavin was quiet as they drank together, feeling like the odd one out. These people were the closest he could have to amiable acquaintances, but while he was glad to be here, drinking and relaxing, he didn’t have much to offer by way of conversation, not without bringing down their mood. He looked up, surprised, when Ysaryn addressed him, though the surprise turned to puzzlement when he couldn’t understand what she was getting at. When Rulitus translated, Gavin cleared his throat. “Healing. Asked Envy to teach me sometime, when I’m ready. In the meantime, I’ll be staying here and helping around. He mentioned needing someone to help be a go-between for the two refugee camps here.” 

Her next question made him put down his cup. He shook his head at Rulitus, meaning to indicate that he didn’t mind the question. “A little, yeah. Even under the haze of control, it’s hard to forget an escapee.” He pointed his thumb at Rab. “I remembered him being around during that time. Though, when the—when I’m asked to do the things in the caverns, it’s like I’m drugged, myself. It’s sometimes like watching somebody else from a window do those things, even though it’s your body, your hands.” Gavin frowned at his hands as he said that, then drained his cup. Kire took it, put more in, and set it down in front of him. 

“He got my heart working again after it stopped. Not bad for a blood mage,” Kire said, mussing up Gavin’s hair. The lad grimaced and tried to shoo her hand away, which made her mess it up even more. “There. Now it’s almost as bad as your hair,” she said, teasing Ruli. Then, frowning as she tried to concentrate, she recalled the vague memories she had during that brief space of her ‘death’. “You see some really weird shit when you’re dead, ‘pparently,” she slurred. “Some of it’s like the weird shit I see after you do the whole thing with your hands. Your Touch. Whatever you call it. Are you sure that’s normal? Like my mind puts in some weird detail that wasn’t even there, and I definitely haven’t seen it before. Must be because I’m not from this world. Did you know your signature smells like cinnamon? Isn’t that weird? Don’t ask me why, I don’t make the rules.” 
Gavin’s eyes widened at the string of sentences she had just babbled out almost without pause in between. “Oh. You’re [i]that[/i] kind of drunk,” he muttered.