The raid was a success! Ollie was high on victory all the way home! Elated and sore, his muscles ached and his head delightfully light! He dashed back into the Col saying a delirious good night to his brother at the treehouse and practically twirling in tight circles on his way toward the clinic.

“Vesper!” He called out, she really needed her own bed somewhere, but in the clinic, he could keep better tabs on her. “Vesper we won!” He had pulled a bottle of honey mead from the storeroom to celebrate. “I won both my battles! Last time I got trumped on my second opponent and Wyl won both of his but it was my turn this time! He won one and I won both!” He was elated and practically dancing through the clinic. Fluidly shrugging off his polar bear armor and placing it on the hook by the door.

The whites of his eyes and the rapid way he was breathing were all signs he was holding himself together like a paper mache ball in the rain. About to collapse. With trembling paws, he wrestled with the bottle.

“C'mon wanna try a sip with me?” He asked a little too loud as if he already had a few sips.


"Speech"

The warriors were off doing their thing. Flexing their muscles at some other pack, while she was tasked with cleaning out the medical clinic and washing the sheets. She got to her task, and did consider the possibility of just… taking off. Most of the Armada’s forces has surely left for the Raid.

But when she peeked out the door, airing out some of the bedding, she realised there were still guards on patrol. Of course there was. How big was this stupid pack, anyway? She had long finished her job and was dozing on her cot when a voice rang out outside. She lifted her head sleepily, stifling a yawn. Was that Oleander?

He sounded giddy, reminding her of his young age as he floundered into the den. Holding something in his paw as his eyes zeroed in on her. He moved with far too much energy through the wide cavern and she found herself stifling another yawn. What was he rambling about? Oh, right. His battles. No doubt he’d need someone to patch him up, as well. She found herself eying him critically, looking for wounds. Not that she cared, but someone would have to do the work of patching him. “What is it, My lord?” She asked, through it looked similar to the bottle Wilder had snuck them a little while ago.


"Vesper"

She looked up at him sleepy and he thought briefly on the idea of letting her sleep but she was up now and curious! He couldn't contain himself!

"It's some honey mead!" Ollie replied grabbing a cup and sloshing a good two shots worth in it, "I don't usually like to use it unless it's in tinctures, though vodka is best for tinctures! This will give us a fun little buzz to celebrate our victory! Have you tried alcohol, Ves?" He asked after he rambled at lightspeed, nearly spilling the booze as he made his way to her on the cot. The bite on his leg made him limp as a faint dribble of blood stained his white fur and his back twitched at the bite there, also stained red and looser than when he started out that day, the effort to lift the cup made him shake.

Without waiting for her approval or response he sat heavily on the ground next to her, placed her cup down, nearly knocking it over with his overwhelming trembling energy and downed his own cup with a swift glug glug.

"Go ahead and try some! My first-" He was finally getting out of breath, but seemed unfazed, "My first guy- opponent! He-She! I think it was a girl! Yeah! She kind of looked - She looked like-- kinda like Tethys!" He needed more of that drink, it tasted so strong! Wasn't it supposed to make you feel better? His heart was racing. Wasn't it supposed to calm that down? Make him numb?

His head was swimming as he got up again, a literal whirlwind of anxious and frantic energy.
"The other- Theguy, the other guy! He was an elder! and I-" He swayed as he got closer to the table. His bitten leg gave way under him and he fell to the hard floor, the cup rattled away across the floor. He watched the floor come closer as if in slow motion, the cup flying away from him as if it was happening to someone else. He stared at the cup and watched as a drop of mead dripped to the floor.

"Fuck."

"Speech"