Bottom of the Bottle

It was one of the fewer moments Balthier was sober, or soberish. Mostly hungover. When he woke up in the morning. Surprisingly not on the raft. Pulling his head up he looked towards the shore at least spotting the the sail in the distance. Good he didn’t need to go on another long venture, replace another destroyed sail.

Every limb on his body was heavy, but that was just because of his inappropriate condition. Well, maybe inappropriate to most. Maybe. He was able to stand and shake the dirt off, squinting at the sight of the sun beyond the shade of the rock he had been laying under. He’d have to make his way back to the raft though maybe he should make sure there would be nothing left behind here first.

"Balthier"