Upon making your last rounds in camp for the night, Astarion approaches, stumbling and slurring his words. You raise a questioning brow, wondering if he's drunk. He responds

"I have drunk, not alcohol, of course. A bear~. He took a little of my blood. I took all of his."

He smirks, seemingly very smug, and rather proud of himself. Although..he sways quite a bit, almost as if he's off-balance despite standing firmly on his feet. It appears a bear is comparable to whiskey in vampiric terms.