Chess, Not Checkers

Unbeknownst to the young wolf, the alcohol was already beginning to have an affect on him. That warmth had spread throughout him, making his nerves tingle with a slight haze of unfocus in his mind. It was subtle, not enough for him to notice it right away or that anything had begun to change. He watched while Sirius took a long draw from the bottle, which now had a noticeable amount of liquid gone from it, and almost let his bravado get the better of him as he considered following the Warlord's lead. He didn't go for one long gulp, but instead broke it down into two smaller ones, finding those much more manageable without coughing like he was choking.

Sirius asked him if he'd ever seen a wolf drunk before, and it took his fuzzy mind a few moments to piece together the question and the right response. "Uh... no, no I don't think I have, sir." His words came out a little slower, trying to make his mouth make the right movements without slurring his speech.


"Artorias Carpathius"