the difference between real purpose & urgent adolescence

Hazel had passed off the message as a hurried whisper. After dinner, our treehouse, don't tell anyone. It was a birthday surprise, after all. Both of their birthdays. The pair of yearlings was an odd one, but really, each made the other better. Hell, Bas had saved her life, just like the Warlord had. They may as well celebrate. That, and Hazel had managed to swipe a jar of Halo's good alcohol from a crate of jars that had fallen off the wagon and mostly broken during the move. It was clear, and looked almost like water... but it certainly didn't smell like it.

Dinner came, dinner went. Hazel asked Seer if she could go hang out with Mortis... yeah, that was a good cover story, a good reason for her to cross over into the Woods. After the Warlord left the room, Hazel scooped a few comfy pelts and an armful of snacks into a shoulder bag. Carefully hidden within, as well, was the jar of clear alcohol. The red and pale girl carefully slipped into the chilly evening air, looking over one shoulder and then the other. Right, there was no reason for anyone to be suspicious of her, she was just um... going to see Mort. Or something.

Their treehouse was in its early stages, a rough platform among the trees. Still, it was broad and flat, and they could see the stars through the branches. As quietly as possible, Hazel made her way up and began setting everything out. The pelts, the snacks, but the jar... well, she'd leave that carefully tucked away until Bas was here, a nice surprise for the right moment. The only question was... where was he?

"Speech"