continued from here @clandekariios
Admittedly Wyll, in his mixed emotionally state, had drunk several bottles of various wines. It hadn't been his intention, though, he had merely meant to dwell on his thoughts silently along the beach. It was hard not to feel strongly, when he felt the weight of new horns and the sway of his tail at his side. However, one of the tieflings had been kind enough to offer him a bottle in the first place.
Never did he intend on getting as wasted as he did. Yet here he was, standing beside Gale, barely able to stand. Instead he found himself leaning heavily on the wizard. "You know? I think I might have because I'm feeling woozy. Or is it the horns? Man these things feel so heavy." The warlock let out a chuckle and rested his head Gale's shoulder, inhaling his scent.
"You smell good, not like me, you smell like magic and that is brilliant." A hiccup left Wyll's lips as he tried to balance himself, a half grin making its way to his features. "How do I smell? Probably like hellfire, like the devil I am? Mizora does love her claims..."
This was why Wyll was rarely drunk, he could never control himself when he was this way. Hell, in times prior, his drunken stupor had led a particularly protective Mizora either separating him from those around him, or in death. It had been that way at least once; the very reason why he always kept himself distant from others. But he wasn't concerned with that now. "God how much did I drink?" Around them laid about a collection of bottles.
