Not As Think As You Drunk I Am, Bro!

"Don't call me Princess," she gave him a little poke of claws, but nothing too sharp. "I hate it." A little yawn pulled from her and she rubbed her face against his ruff. "Just Asla." And then she was getting lectured for fibbing again. Jeez... beating a dead deer. She knew, okay? At least he was being a little supportive. She hadn't expected that.

His next words about her being a sister and not a friend brought soft, slightly husky laughter from the young woman. "Oooo, sister-zoned." She was terribly amused by it and couldn't stop grinning. "Better be careful. Claiming me as a sister comes with a lot of responsibility." It was... comforting? Sure hadn't expected him to feel anything other than hatred towards her. "And I might be annoying, but I think you'd miss me if I were gone." Extending her neck as far as she could, Asla kissed Naiches cheek.

During their walk and talk she had indeed sobered up some. Enough so that she felt she might be able to walk on her own. "Giving Naiche a pat with one paw, Asla slid to the side, effectively falling off of his back with a grunt. She landed in a heap, but found her paws after only a few tries. "I can find the rest of the way myself. I know I've inconvenienced you enough for one evening." She could probably make her way back home. If not. She'd just sleep right here. A little hiccup put a hitch in her voice as she spoke. "Thanks for the lift, Golden Boy." Asla began to stumble in the direction that she thought her den was in, but the world began to spin. She groaned aloud and sat, tilting her muzzle upward, eyed squeezed shut. Life was hard right now. She wasn't going to drink again any time soon.