Chupacabra campfire: Saturday morning
Karal stumbled out of the cabin. His head was pounding, his stomach was rolling, and his mouth felt as it had been stuffed full of cotton. It was not a good morning.
He collapsed in a little heap of misery next to the campfire and tried to hide from everything in the world that made noise. Including the sun. No, the sun can't actually make noise. Yet there he was, huddling in the cabin's shadow.
"Oh, Sunlord. I will never drink again." It was a fervent vow, and to it he added a silent wish for willowbark tea.
Your first hangover is always a startlingly memorable experience.
[ooc: very open, yes!]
He collapsed in a little heap of misery next to the campfire and tried to hide from everything in the world that made noise. Including the sun. No, the sun can't actually make noise. Yet there he was, huddling in the cabin's shadow.
"Oh, Sunlord. I will never drink again." It was a fervent vow, and to it he added a silent wish for willowbark tea.
Your first hangover is always a startlingly memorable experience.
[ooc: very open, yes!]