[Present]

Adolpha shook her head, "I'm sorry." Her cheeks ran red, flushed from both the embarrassment and the alcohol. The alcohol had begun to make her feel a bit dizzy, her skin feeling softer than it did before as her head started to spin. She couldn't stop the smile that edged to the corners of her mouth, either.

Chase shook his head, too, but not out of exasperation; rather, out of amusement, and he smiled at her, "It's alright. Your journey and the war was just hard on a lot of us."

"I know," she said, feeling friendlier than before, "It's just hard to explain it."

"No, I get it," Chase said, "It was traumatic. It's hard to not feel defensive about that... and I sometimes feel the same way about the mule I was bucked off of as a lad."

"Yeah," Adolpha glanced away sheepishly, "It feels like it was all just yesterday. It haunts me in my sleep."

Chase nodded thoughtfully, his curled hair swaying with the motion, "But someday, you'll heal, and you'll be glad you went through with the mission. Don't forget that you saved us all."

"Anyways," Adolpha said quickly, very eager to change the topic of conversation, "What is it that you do these days, Chase? I feel like we haven't had a conversation in years."

"That's because we haven't."

"Oh."

He chuckled, "No, it's okay. It is not your fault, anyways. I never reached out, and Yakob really stole you away a lot of the time." That name. Oh, that cursed name somehow felt even more sour in Adolpha's ear than Virulent's had. She almost bristled, almost spat out her sweet mead, nearly stood and slammed her fists on the table and left right then. But Chase must have noticed her sudden drop of expression, as he concernedly sat up, asking, "Adolpha, are you alright?"

"Quite fine, Chase," although her tight grip on the glass left her knuckles white, bear from blood.

"Well, alright... and I wanted to give you my condolences for Ware."

"Stop it, alright!" Adolpha warned, glaring at him then, her friendliness nothing but a booze-induced memory then. "I am not so eager as to speak of my dead mother, nor am I so eager to speak of the war, nor am I so eager to speak of Yakob, that devil himself."

Chase's eyes grew wide, "I'm sorry... I suppose I was not thinking..."

"You seem to lack the ability to," Adolpha snarked at him, and despite his surprise, he cracked a chuckle.

"You have not changed one bit, my friend."

"I haven't?"

"Well, perhaps you are quieter, more sad and sulky than before..." Adolpha was about to hit him with another sly remark, but then considered his words carefully, tossing them around in her mind with a cocked head.

Finally, she said, "Well, I suppose you are right. Otherwise, I would not be sitting here next to you on this fine afternoon." She tapped the table again, alerting the bartender, and was hastily poured another glass of mead.

"Have you had enough?" Chase remarked.

"Not yet," Adolpha said. Truthfully, the alcohol had begun to devour her; her vision grew blurry, her words began to slow, and her body felt more relaxed. Being friendly with Chase sounded more and more appealing as she drank, and she took comfort in his companionship, just as she did whenever she was little. As they chatted at the bar, she moved from her stool a few seats down and sat in the stool beside him. The stool was cold to the touch, uncomfortable although made of fine wood, but she tolerated it. Chase called for another beer himself, and as they talked and laughed, he went through it quickly.

"Alright," Adolpha said, mid-conversation, "Drinking game, please." Her words were not quite slurred, but certainly getting there, slowing down and not having quite the same proper tone to them as when she'd first arrived. She was much less cold as well; now, she was a bit hot feeling, and full of trembling energy.

"Hmm, alright," Chase said, a large grin on his tan, textured face, showing uneven but very clean teeth, "I will give you details, and you will try to figure out who I am thinking of."

"Okay," Adolpha said, smiling widely too, "I accept your challenge."

Chase nodded, thinking for only a second before beginning, "Alright, I am thinking of a male with long, blonde hair."

"Oh, that's too easy. Mayor Kelo, isn't it?"

Chase laughed out loud, almost too loud, "Yes! Yes."

"Now it is my turn," Adolpha smirked, her blue eyes scanning the room for ideas, "I am thinking of someone with fur, not hair."

"Oh, you are thinking of that Quince's brother!" Chase said, immediately. "I always forget his name."

"Why, how could you forget his name? His name is Ajax."

"I'm not as close to him as you are, Adolpha," Chase reminded her, "Not everyone spent years with him and his sister."

"I always forget," Adolpha joked sarcastically. She took another tall swig of her mead, and Chase stared at her expectantly.

He said, "Can I try some of that?"

"Why yes, but you must allow me a sip of your beer."

"Done." Like that, the two swapped cups. The pint of beer was heavier and sloshing, and as Adolpha pressed it to her lips, it wasn't nearly as delicious and sweet as her familiar mead. She made a sour face, sticking her tongue out like a child, and said, "It's not good at all!"

"Yours is too sweet," Chase confirmed, and the two promptly switched their drinks back again with a loud laugh. Then, he began again, "Now, I am thinking of someone neither of us know the name to. I am thinking of someone fair in looks, and strong in stature. A male." Adolpha thought hard, considering who that might be, glancing around the large bar once again. It clicked for her as her dizzy eyes landed on the bartender.

"Oh, it's him!" She said with a laugh, and Chase cheered her for her right answer.

"It's not much of a drinking game if we both keep getting the answers right," Chase sighed, somewhat sarcastically, pretending to be sad.

Adolpha nodded, butting out her bottom lip like a child about to throw a fit, "Yes, and I'd quite like to drink more with you." Now, her words began to slur heavily. Chase's did, too.

He spoke slowly, every syllable stretched out with nearly no space in between, "Yes... Then I will give you dares, and you will give them to me."

Adolpha practically bounced out of her seat with drunken enjoyment, "What a great idea! You can go first, Chase."

"Hmm," he said, "I dare you to kiss the bartender."

Adolpha laughed, "Oh, really? I can."

"So do it!" He laughed, too, far too loudly, his cheeks flushed red and a bit of sweat lining his curled hairline. Adolpha looked similar, flushed in the face and full of swirling energy.

"I will if you will," Adolpha challenged.

"Alright! I will, too!" Chase's voice was loud, sleazy and triumphant. Adolpha lazily tapped her hand on the counter to alert the bartender again, and he strode over to her smoothly, head held high.

"Bartender," Adolpha started, words slow and doozy, "I was wondering if you'd kiss me!" The man's eyes widened, and then noting how drunk she was, he chuckled, leaned over, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

His voice, though greatly amused, was still gruff, "Does that suffice?"

"Very much so, but one more, for my friend here who likes you." The bartender laughed again, louder this time, and offered a peck on the cheek to a very red-faced Chase. Then, he smiled at them both, and left them to themselves at the counter as he prepared drinks for someone else from across the room.

As he was out of earshot, Chase turned to Adolpha rather frantic, "Why would you tell him I like him?!" He laughed loudly, and nervously. Adolpha laughed so hard her cheeks and stomach began to hurt, and her entire body swelled from alcoholic glee.

"You should have seen the embarrassed look on your face!" She sputtered.

"It's not funny," Chase protested, but his wide grin gave it away. He was laughing nearly as hard as Adolpha, even more red-faced than she was. She clutched her stomach, unable to control the fit of loud laughter. Adolpha was lucky that as the afternoon shifted into early evening, the bar had become much more populated and loud, so she and Chase's childish cackling did not disturb the other folks celebrating, dancing, or drinking at the pub, for they were equally as loud. The ruckus and excitement only grew as the late evening settled in. Adolpha began to wonder why she didn't come here more often, and why she had felt such trepidation upon first arriving. Now, she'd rekindled an old friendship, and was extremely grateful for it.

"Another drink?" Adolpha asked.

"To us!" Chase cheered, allowing the bartender to refill both of their drinks. Adolpha chugged her mead then, allowing the sweet drink to roll down her tongue. Her vision was darkened, her head spinning, and she could barely remain sitting upright in her stool. Chase glanced at her strangely, "Will you be okay?"

Her words stretched forever, "I will... be fine..." her speech lacked any depth or grammar, and instead her words were spoken in long, slurred drawls. She kept her hands firmly on the bar's table, not completely aware of what was going on. She allowed her head to spin and her mindless thoughts to swirl, focusing her eyes on nothing and nobody in particular. As if she were floating, her body seemed to loose its weight and gravity, and thus, its balance.

"You're not fine at all," Chase laughed. He was quite drunk, but far less than she was by this point. "Why, you're practically falling out of your chair!"

"Oh, am I?" She asked slowly, confused, glancing around herself as if making sure she was still upright and somewhat steady. Really, she was not steady at all. She clung to Chase's arm to hold herself right, and Chase knew that it would soon be time for her to go home, although he dreaded the end to such a wonderful and long day. "And Chase," she said, her lips barely moving as she spoke, "You never... quite told me... what it is you are doing in this pub..."

Chase chuckled, "Of course you had to ask. I stop by every so often and catch a few drinks. I don't usually stay this long, though."

"Well, well, well," Adolpha hiccuped, "We haven't been here quite that long. We will stay quite a while longer, yet!" Her voice was heavy with drunken tiredness.

Chase shook his head, chuckling still, "I don't expect we will stay much longer, Adolpha."

"And what?" She challenged lazily, "You can't drag me home." Chase thought carefully for a while, then. She was right; with him being confined to the wheeled chair, he couldn't exactly carry the extremely drunk Adolpha all the way back to her home. He needed to get someone to help him. He tapped on the table top, and on cue, the bartender came to his aide.

"Bartender," Chase address him politely, "Could you possibly watch this woman while I go out and find her a way home?"

He nodded, "Certainly, but be quick, will you? I still have work left to do."

Chase felt very uncomfortable leaving Adolpha here by herself, but he knew the Bartender would be standing nearby at all times. Begrudgingly, he left his trust in the Bartender and used his strong upper body strength to pull himself from the stool into his wheeled chair. It was comfortable as always, with delicately padded seating and wooden wheels attached to the wooden sides, supported with steel frames and nails. The wheelchair was large and clunky, but it allowed Chase his freedom and comfort, and for that, he loved it. He quickly ushered past a loud crowd through the doorway and made his way outside, but was suddenly stopped as he nearly ran over Quince herself with his wheels. He recognised her nearly immediately, as she did him, but the two stopped and stared in stunned silence for a few seconds before interacting.

"Quince," Chase said, exasperated, "I was just coming to find you or your brother." He was confused, but also immensely relieved to see his old friend.

"My brother has left for his expedition to Adam's Peak already," Quince reminded him, although Chase had not known it was Ajax and Danica who had been assigned such a mission.

"Oh, well, alright. Will you follow me?"

"What is it? And..." she hesitated, "Are you drunk?"

"No. Well, yes. Perhaps a little."

She retorted, "Ha. A little."

"Wait until you see Adolpha."

"She is just who I was coming to see." Chase began to wheel back into the pub, having been stopped right in the entry way by Quince. He could see from the doorway that it was beginning to grow dark outside. How long had they been here? The deeper into the building the two walked, the louder the ambiance became.

Chase asked over the ruckus and band playing, "How did you know she was here?"

"Truth be told, I saw her stop by earlier. I nearly followed her in, if not for my work at my parent's farm. But now all is done, and I may join the excitement." Chase could sense some unease in her voice, as if she didn't really believe that Adolpha had come excitedly to the bar. Even tipsy as he was, Chase recalled how sullen and dark Adolpha had seemed upon her arrival. She'd clearly had something terrible on her mind, nearly brought to tears by his conversation to begin with, but once she'd settled in, the two had gotten along really well. They'd chatted, laughed, and listened as the bands switched throughout the day, playing new and unusual types of funky, expressive music, which echoed over the people excitedly.

As they quickly shuffled through the bustling crowd and reached the bar, Quince's blue eyes went wide as she saw Adolpha slouched over the table, incomprehensibly drunk. Adolpha slowly raised her head to greet her, her face as red as her hair. To Adolpha, the scene was a brilliant bokeh light; warm candlelight danced upon Chase's tan features and Quince's sharp, dark brown face. The warm light made her blue eyes seem more grey, and yet just as beautiful and lively. The bouncing glow even reflected her ebony curled hair, which shimmered at every curve. The seen was beautiful, warm, vibrant, and blurry. It was like a warm party, or sitting by the crackling fire with some friends; dancing and singing drunkenly, or chatting up a storm. It reminded Adolpha of all that was well, but in her state, she couldn't exactly form the right words to describe the beautiful scene.

All she could muster was a low, "You're so beautiful," to Quince, who immediately seemed flustered and taken aback.

Chase shook his head, chuckling, "See? This is what I'm dealing with. I can't take her home, Quince. I'd really appreciate it if you could help me."

Quince smiled down from where he sat, "I can take her home for you, Chase. I will certainly take care of her. You need to go home yourself. Get yourself cleaned up. I trust that you can do that?"

"Yes, ma'am." He gave an expressive smile, one that showed his intense gratitude for Quince without needing to speak anything. Still, he thanked her, and she welcomed him for it. Quince pulled Adolpha from her stool; she was deadweight, slurring every letter that formed on her drowsy lips. She could barely keep her eyes open. Quince carried Adolpha bridal-style, straining slightly as she did so, carrying her from the bar and out the door. Chase covered her check for her, paying the bartender before wheeling out of the pub himself.

The air outside was crisp and cool, a sharp contrast to the warm, loud air from inside the pub, which smelled like booze and smoke. Outside, the sky smelled clean, fresh, like new farmland, wind, and the grass. It was delicious, and Chase took a sweet, long inhale, shivering slightly at the chilly wind's touch, before saying his goodbye to Quince and Adolpha and wheeling himself home.

Quince was left in a tranquil silence with Adolpha. She was large, pudgy, and very warm in her arms, and Quince didn't mind carrying her one bit. The sky filtered past them with a soft woosh, touching their skin gracefully. Quince couldn't help but chuckle at Adolpha's outfit. It was so fitting to her, that cloak and those leathers. She had begun to notice that Adolpha refused to let go of many habits she'd formed while on their journey, such as sleeping through cold nights and always carrying a weapon on her. Even now, although Adolpha would never note it as a significant part of getting ready in the mornings, Quince could almost guarantee that she had some sort of pocket knife strapped to a boot or to her bra.

Adolpha's head lolled back loosely over Quince's forearm, her other dark arm beneath the bend of her legs. Adolpha's blue eyes fluttered open and shut, unaware of what exactly was happening, and completely deadweight.

Barely audible, she murmured, "Where are we going?" The cool air felt bitter against her hot and reddened skin, and one could practically see the steam rolling off of it. Quince huffed a little from exertion, but had she been anything close to sober, Adolpha would have been impressed from her strength. Adolpha was quite a bit larger and heavier than Quince; but years of using her arms and upper chest in flight had toned them well for something like this. A few passer-by's chuckled at the sight; a woman carrying her dear friend, drunk as can be, from the bar. Adolpha's eyes gleamed as she fondly stared at her friend.

"I'm taking you home," Quince said. She was a bit frustrated with Adolpha; drinking herself within an inch of death like this, and with no way to get home. She hadn't even ridden a mule in town; although the thought of Adolpha drunkenly riding a mule posed its own risks to her safety. Quince shook her head at the thought, but she couldn't contain the bit of an amused smile that she wore. It felt unlike Adolpha to need saving, and truth be told, the situation was funny.

Quince carried her in her arms as she walked through town. It didn't take long before they'd reached the familiar, lush terraces of Adolpha's yard; although, the lush terraces seemed more wilted and overgrown at the moment. Quince dreaded carrying Adolpha's heavy weight all the way up these steps, but she did it anyways, taking every stone step in stride up the terraces and to the top of the hill where Adolpha's large and fancy cottage resided. As always, Quince admired the intricate beauty of the home, the simple carvings along the door frame and the beauty in the well-built windows. She wondered why Adolpha had stopped taking pride in her beautiful, luxurious home. This was evident by her lack of care for it upon their return home. Every surface was layered with dust or settled grime, and the garden out back had fiercely overgrown since May stopped caring for it. Even the front yard, the easiest part of the property to maintain, looked neglected and tangled.

But appearing at the dizzy woman in her arms, Quince understood that Adolpha herself was not much different. Her orange curled hair had not been washed since her last bath, and was slick with grease and some tangles; her skin was dotted with dirty blemishes, and her lips chapped. Even her clothes, although clean, were more suited for a traveller and seemed tattered and very worn. They were some of the same clothes Adolpha had worn on their journey, and the outfit showed its age and wear. Quince wondered when the last time the woman had brushed her teeth was, or when the last time she had gone to the public stable to feed her mule; not only was she neglecting her home and yard, but she was also neglecting herself. She wondered if Adolpha's sister had stopped by to say goodbye to her before leaving with Ajax, only to find Adolpha's home empty while she was out drinking. A drink or two here and there was not unusual for Adolpha, but this? Quince could only stare at her flushed, briefly sweaty face in wonder. What had sparked this?

And truth be told, Quince was going into that bar the first moment she saw Adolpha enter, abandoning her farmyard chores where they were, leaving that rake sitting there. She hadn't known what drove her to it, but seeing Adolpha hurriedly walk through the dusty street, head down and hood up, she knew that she had to follow her. But as Quince did, she watched from the pub's entryway as Adolpha took a seat at the bar only a few stools away from Chase, an old friend of both of theirs. Quince had known undoubtedly that Chase fancied Adolpha, and she'd ultimately decided not to get in the way of their romantic encounter, and instead left and returned to her chores, unnoticed by them. Quince wondered if the two frequently hung out together, or if it was just a fluke meeting. As far as she had known, Adolpha and Chase, much like herself and Chase, hadn't spoken in years. But based on what she'd seen at the bar her second time going in, the two had rekindled something. Before Adolpha had gotten nearly black-out drunk, she was probably having a good time. Chase seemed as if he was, his cheeks having been flushed from laughter. Adolpha's were, too, Quince noted, staring down at that tired face.

She wasn't sure what had pushed her to enter that bar a second time. Perhaps after she was done with her work, Quince just wanted to catch up with Adolpha or see how she was doing. She was considering turning back around and leaving for a second time whenever Chase had wheeled right into her.

Quince finally reached the door to Adolpha's abode, heaving a bit with the strain as her arms began to ache sourly. She held up Adolpha with one arm, fiddling quickly with the doorknob with the other, and then secured her patient once again as they entered, holding Adolpha close to her chest. The inside of the house was just as chilly as it was outside, and it was very dark, too. The hot evening had settled into a chilly dusk outside, with the sky turning various shades of purple and pink. The moon settled over the town with its brilliant glow, casting silvery glares through the cottage's round windows and onto the hardwood floors. The house nearly felt underwater with the pale blue hues soaking it.

Quince took the drowsy woman into her bedroom, which felt a little warmer than the livingroom, and gently laid her down on the bed, resting her loose head on the fluffy white pillow. The bed was unmade, but it was clean, and that was fine. Adolpha sank into the mattress, her body suddenly aching and heavy as her head spun. The detailed tiles of the ceiling swirled and swirled around in a hook shape. Adolpha's head rolled, and she fixated momentarily on Quince beneath heavy eyelids. Quince slowly sat herself down on the edge of the bed, both legs hanging off of it, watching Adolpha carefully to ensure that she was alright.

Her voice was a slurred murmur, "Are we home, then?"

"Yes, Adolpha. You're home," Quince said. Quince's voice was much clearer, much crisper. If it had been anyone else, anyone who didn't know Adolpha as well as she did, then they may not even understand what it is that Adolpha was saying.

"Where did you come from?" Adolpha asked, confused.

"Chase asked me to bring you home, since he couldn't."

"Is he here?" Something on Quince's expression changed, but neither of them could tell what it was.

"No."

Adolpha's mouth curled into a soft smile, "Okay."

"Would you like him here?" Quince asked, concerned.

She giggled, "No. He would not shut up."

Quince laughed, too, "Oh, really? It seemed like you two were getting along really well."

Adolpha nodded, her subtle voice trailing off, "It was nice... to see an old friend like that... but I'd didn't want to see him..."

"You didn't?"

She shook her head, eyes fluttering shut, "No. I'd wanted to be all by my lonesome..."

Quince tilted her head, curious, "Why's that? I thought you enjoyed going out."

"I do," Adolpha said, opening her tired eyes again, and Quince could see the dark bags forming beneath them. "I looove to go out." She hiccuped slightly, excused herself, and Quince chuckled. "But," Adolpha said, voice just as messy, "I'd not spoken Chase in forever, and I wished to be all by my lonesome." Every word of hers was drug out, like mud over stones.

"I can go," Quince suggested, "If you still wish to be alone." She was amused, smiling fondly, but Adolpha's dreary eyes widened and she shook her head.

"No," Adolpha said, "I don't want you to go. I never want you to go." She was beginning to sound like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum with how she whined. "I hate it when you go. I hate it whenever I'm alone, if I could be with you..."

Quince shook her head, her smile dropping and her eyebrows pressed neatly together, "That's not why you went to the pub today, is it? It wasn't because of me leaving last night... was it?"

Adolpha shook her head lazily, "No, of course not... silly... that was because my loved daughter came to visit me this morning... she said that she wants to make amends, that she wants us to be daughter and mother again!" Quince's eyes widened as her realisation set in. "She does not even consider me her mother, then," Adolpha said solemnly.

"Adolpha," Quince said, stern, "I must confess..." Adolpha's drowsy attention turned to her completely, confused. Lying there, her head was propped against the pillow, and with a crease, her round chin was flat against her collar bone. Quince continued, "It was my fault that May said such a thing. Whenever I left in a hurry last night, I went to visit May and told her to reconnect with you. I saw how sad it made you... And I only wanted you to feel better." Adolpha blinked a few times, letting Quince's words soak in. Then, her face lifted to a smile, and she laughed. "What's so funny?" Quince asked, eyes wide in surprise.

"Because," Adolpha slurred through a grin, "You being as selfless as that is why I love you."

Now, Quince was very shocked, "You do?"

"How could I not?" Adolpha laughed again.

"I think you are too drunk," Quince said, but she couldn't help the large smile that spread across her face. "But for the record," she said, "I love you, too."

Not a single thought seemed to cross through Adolpha's mind as she continued to drunkenly babble on, "I don't just love you, Quince. Of course I do. I love Ajax and Danica, too. But I quite like you, Quince. I quite like you, I do." Adolpha slowly sat up in the bed as best as she could, hardly able to keep herself upright as she leaned back against the frame of the bed, "And I miss May, but I miss our journey, our travel, all of us together and the people that we met along the way. How terribly I miss it, the nights with you, Quince, the idea of having a mission, a clear path ahead. This? This life here is much more difficult, and I cannot stand it."

Quince took one of Adolpha's hands in hers, attempting to comfort her, "It's alright, Adolpha."

"And yet," Adolpha continued on, her words stringing together, "Even as I miss our grand journey, the heroics of it all, before I felt as a failure... it still haunts me. I still see it, and I am afraid. And I am afraid of all of the things that you do not know about me."

Quince chuckled, "And what do I not know about you?" Adolpha's eyes were wide and watery as she stared at Quince like a caught deer. Quince could see the rise and fall of her panicked shoulders, but she couldn't place what Adolpha could see that Quince could not. She had never known all that Adolpha could see, and for a long time, she had known it was because of Adolpha's blessing; but now, as she had no powers, she wondered if Adolpha was just intuitive, and had heard something that Quince had not.

"There's a lot," Adolpha said, her voice cracked with emotion, and Quince frowned with it.

"It's alright," Quince said, but Adolpha just shook her head, visibly upset. "It's okay," she repeated.

"It's not okay," Adolpha said, and the tears began to flow. "Nothing feels okay anymore, and my arm aches..."

"Oh..." Quince said, plain. Adolpha wiped her eyes and her mouth with her sleeve, sitting up and moving closer to Quince.

"Will you stay?" She asked. "Can you stay?"

"I can stay," Quince said softly. "I will gladly stay here with you."

"I'm just worried... It's hard... it's hard to forget..."

"I know," and Quince took Adolpha into her arms slowly, comforting her with soft murmuring words. "It will be okay."