Comradeship came easy when there was a common goal, and even more easily when there were common miseries. Despite the recent failure of that afternoon’s supply run, or maybe because of it, the campsite easily fell into the usual routine: those who had been out during the day took a few hours to decompress and clean up before dinner, and then everyone gathered around the campfire to eat—and to drink.

The fuzzy comfort of alcohol settled over Eryx’s concerns. He decided that for one night he wasn’t going to worry about the godsdamned worms. For one night, he wouldn’t run off to his tent to dwell on the violent, horrific thoughts that plagued his mind at the worst possible times. For one night, he was going to enjoy the chatter, the food and the entertainment of companionship.

Sober Eryx would have tried to break up the bickering that once again had broken out between Shadowheart and Lae’zel; tipsy Eryx was maybe a little too invested in trying to figure out how much of the tension between them was actually of a much more physical nature than either of the girls was willing to admit.

And then Eryx blinked. Lae’zel and Shadowheart were gone, their argument exhausted while he was lost in thought—but someone else was suddenly standing between him and the campfire. Eryx swallowed the mouthful of ale he had stored in his cheeks and flashed a toothy half-smile up at illuminated figure in greeting.

“Ah…sorry, didn’t see you come over. You need somethin’?”