Every Little Thing She Does

The stranger looked as though she would flee initially, but seemed to think better of it. She took a hearty swig and found her own patch of soft grass to lay upon. "You keep that one," she instructed the newcomer. Reaching into her pack, she pulled out the last gourd. "Rhythm and I will share this one." The tiny wolf scooted a bit closer to the elderly lady so they wouldn't have to reach as far. Settling upon her back in the sweetly scented grasses, the little healer sighed with pleasure. "And I am Iolaire," she gave her name to the newcomer.

"So tell me, where do you ladies hail from?" She hadn't seen either of them around before, though there was something familiar about the younger of the strangers. Her scent was tinged with familiarity, but Iolaire was already so tipsy that scent, sights and even memory meant next to nothing. She was feeling good for now. If she kept up this level of inebriation, the night would be smooth sailing. She would most likely have to have Sirius come and drag her home to make sure that she didn't walk off of a cliff, but she would be in a great mood.

The sun had set, it's last rays tinging the sky a plethora of oranges and purples. Despite the volcanic clouds that still littered the sky, the night would be clear. The stars would sparkle. If it became too chill, she could make a fire, though the others would have to help her scrounge up some wood. They could burn the gourds, but... alcohol.