Why is the Rum Gone?!

As the girl snorted in amusement at his hungover musings, he’d take a moment to allow his eyes to close for a moment- his swiveling vision wasn’t exactly helping his cause. “Then it sounds like you have a ways to go if you want to compete with me.” Aresenn answered with a dry-humored sigh. He was certain that there were a number of wolves out there that would describe him as lacking in the department of brains. “Though, I’m not sure self-depreciation is a contest you’d want to win.” The Praetor boy continued, peeking up at her with only one eye.

She had an interesting response to his quip about waiting until he was dead before taking his skin. The girl described that flaying was the punishment for treason where she was from. He tried to imagine anyone in the pirates executing someone in that particular method … and it was laughable at best. It wasn’t that he believed no one would come up with it as a punishment. But he thought the lot of them lacked the commitment to see it through. Aresenn snorted at the thought. “Well, to whoever calls the shots back home, I admire that they at least have a sense of humor.” He answered dryly. Looking her over, obsidian and ivory fur tangling in the wind, he’d move on to make his own observation. “Though I see, you either must not be a traitor, or you have the wherewithal to escape- treasonous hide intact.” The boy remarked as his expression was threatened with a smirk. “Are you from around here?” He hadn’t ever heard of a group participating in discipline as intense as what she described, though he supposed it was within the realm of possibilities.

When it came to offering the contents of his throbbing skull, she expressed interest only if there was something that could be considered entertaining. “Afraid not.” He responded flatly, as his mind reeled through vague images of the time leading up to the awakening on the beach. It seemed as if his memories were slowly beginning to become more real. He distinctly remembered grabbing the alcohol … though he wasn’t entirely certain why. He felt that it had been out of anger. Frustration maybe? He didn’t think there had been a confrontation. An announcement maybe? Then it came flooding back. Sparrow had spiraled into her own grief, and Gil had staked a claim on the pack. “Shit.” He murmured to himself, momentarily losing himself to his mind over the girl that stood before him. He had walked out. He hadn’t been interested in following Gil into whatever lot he wanted to morph Pirates Plunder into … so, he was on his own now. Two empty bottles, and whoever this girl was. Great.

"Aresenn Praetor"