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WOLVEN DANCE
CYRAN
'She sings well', Hustin says. 'Your mouth is open', I snap and Laen laughs. 'He's been ogling at her since when she arrived. She's real pretty, though. We haven't had one of those in a while', Allos says. I bristle at him, 'Hey back off!' 'Shut the fuck up, Al', Gylen says briskly, and he raises his hands in surrender. 'They've been on the juice for a while now. You can't blame them', he says to me. I peer at the bottles around us, and I count twelve. 'Allos had the most of them', Pedran points out. 'You barely had two. Go on, elf, drink up!' Seirmon says and hands me a bottle. 'I hear elves don't get intoxicated. That true?' Allos inquires.
I reflect back at the Fall festival last year, when Saelyna had drunk herself to stupor. 'Yes, I suppose. Halden mead however, it takes a toll. It's brewed from the barks of the willan tree, grown on Mount Iden. I suppose it has magical properties. It's the only thing that gets us really high', I tell him. 'We'
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