A murder, a murder

Kassander had slipped in and out while Chaos was building his fire, the auburn healer and his fox both shuttling jars there from where they had been sitting in his den, in turn having been carefully carried the whole way from their previous storage in what had been Yfir. Remy rode on his shoulders most trips, sternly overseeing the transfer of his precious brew, but as they collected a last few jars of mead and Chaos' call rang out, the mouse lemur opted to stay in the mountain den rather than risk, as he put it, some drunk idiot dog mistaking him for one of the snacks.

Others had already arrived by the time they got back. To Kassander surprise Rommel too disappeared once he had set the jar down, but he supposed that made sense. Not all wolves liked foxes, and with a lot of strangers around it would be safer not to have the brush-tailed little predator around them. Still, he felt awkward and naked without his constant companion, and remained silent while he arranged the mead with the other jars. Questions arose about the beverages though, and he made himself speak up to answer, particularly since one of the askers was his young nephew.

"It's called alcohol," he said shyly, paw resting on the lid of a wine jar. "It's controlled fermentation of different ingredients. The fruit smelling ones are called wine, they're made from grapes and berries, and the apple and pear smelling ones are cider. The ones that smell like honey are called mead and they are a lot stronger so please be responsible with them," he added anxiously, trailing off under his alpha's amused glance.