"Hm…well I'm not entirely sure. Probably a beastkin, then." Walter was trying to guess based on what he had seen from Eden. She always had her ears and tail, but he had never seen her transform into a tiger completely. Even he didn't know the details on what a lycanthorpe exactly was other than shape-shifting into a beast naturally. Sparrowhawk himself wasn't a lycanthorpe, yet he could change into multiple shapes, taking on forms of many animals. It seemed more difficult to explain than he expected. "Names are just names in the end, what really matters is who you are and not what you are."

Now that Eden was feeling less stressed, she was drinking rather quickly. Walter didn't realize it at first being a bit buzzed himself, but soon he noticed she was downing them faster. As the alcohol loosened her tongue, she told him about her life as a slave. She was kept to fight, and people bet money on the fights from what he could gather. Her former owner forced her to be silent, and only do as told. In that sort of situation, she didn't have much of a choice. The metal collar around her neck told him that too. It looked so heavy, and she couldn't break it off or remove it on her own. Eventually enough was enough. Eden admitted that she killed her owner and broke free, running away from living like a chained dog. Even after she ran away other people still tried to catch her and bring her back. But luckily she met some good people on the way, and they helped her keep her hard-fought freedom. 

By now Eden was through several drinks and her face was red. Drinking so much in a short time without food meant it went straight to her head. She said something interesting that caught his attention. A man who smelled like a bear? Walter had met only one other person who had the same beast blood in them as he did. Come to think of it, didn't he remember that scent of a bear too? This person, this man–sounded a lot like the one he had called his father and teacher for years. Only someone who had strong powers of a druid could give a blessing to another, especially one granting the ability to speak to beasts. Back when they fought the rabbit, she had said something similar. A druid god, who had the blood of a bear; maybe the drink was getting to him too.

Nodding, he moved the now sleeping fox lying on the counter. "I hear you, Eden. You should probably find a place to sleep soon." He chuckled. "Looks like I forgot to tell you to drink more slowly. Even if those sweet ones aren't as strong as the bad-smelling drinks, washing down several will be just the same." He could still stand, and the drink was starting to wear off on him. As long as he was careful and walked slowly he could get the two to someplace comfortable before they toppled. Slinging the drunk fox over his shoulder in his bag, he tapped her arm.   

The sounds around her were beginning to slur quite a bit as well as her vision, so most of his warnings were washed away. However, the tap, at the very least, caught her attention to look up at him with a beet-red face and eyes that struggled to hold any point of focus. Only guessing what was going on, she tried to pull herself from her seat, but her balance was certainly not stable, her tail working overtime to ensure she did not fall straight over. Her strength was also gone as she tried to pick up the massive weapon, only for it to remain rested on the floor, hardly budging an inch now at her attempts. Seeing this, the manticore rose up and headed over to her side and took the blade by mouth, heaving it up for her.

Her attention was elsewhere while it seemed Walter spoke to the bartender about something else before being led down the blurry tunnel. A wall opened up into a new space before getting led further in, before finally laid down on a soft material. She felt herself sink down into it, the texture working itself around her. It was so soft, it was nearly uncomfortable for how much she rested tensely against a tree, but the drink aided with its comforts, letting the work blur before turning black. There, she laid unconscious, falling asleep near instantly and as limp as a doll. While her face was still reddened from the drink, her lips were broken open if only a small bit while the kimono she used to wipe off her combat sweat laid ragged, easily exposing the tight cloth underneath her.

With the beastkin asleep, the manticore rested the weapon near the door before settling himself down near the window of the inn room, only to look at Walter to see what he would do after Eden had settled.

Walter himself stumbled into his room after locking the door to Eden's behind him. He so badly wanted to crawl under the sheets and stretch out in his beast form, but he wasn't sure if this place had people to wake guests up in the mornings. Screaming and being chased out wasn't something he wanted to think of, so he fell on the soft bed still clothed and slightly smelling of alcohol. Both the wolf and he were tired…so very tired. The fox was snoring away with its mouth open, its snout and head sticking out from his bag. Time flew as he and his fox slept the hours away long into the dark hours of the morning. Waking up from an afternoon doze left him disoriented, and the alcohol added to that. He was hungry, and when he looked out the window the tracker was disappointed that there weren't any places open for him to grab a bite to eat. The chirping of crickets and sounds of the night told him he'd missed supper time, and would have to wait for the people to wake up once the sun was shining.

Fishing around in his belongings, he found some old travel rations he still had. "Almost forgot…I was supposed to stock up on supplies again before this bunny business happened. I'll have to wait after I'm in Iria or elsewhere for that." As hospitable the elves had been, he didn't think they would lower their prices for solving their magical predicament. He'd have to tough things out until he passed through the savanna or Nisshoki. The savanna was rich with herds a hunter could live off of, and he had a friend in Nisshoki where he could stay a few nights. It was a good thing that polecat's husband lived so close by. A whimper from under the bed had him close to the ground, peering into the space under the mattress. The fox was now suffering the effects of a hangover from being too greedy in tasting the drinks. It was pretty obvious–he must've crawled down there because everywhere else was too bright.

"What're you doing under there? Come on, here. It might not make the headache much but your stomach'll feel better." Tossing a piece of dried deer jerky to the fox, it shuffled over and snapped the piece up, gnawing on it between its whines of discomfort. Rubbing his own eyes, he bit into a dry cornmeal cake and tried to wait out the time. Oh what he'd do for a nice plate of eggs and potatoes… Now with the fox, he'd be hunting for two after today. Looking at the fox's coloring, it had streaks of grey in its white fur. They were mostly around its face, and a bit on its back, so it wouldn't do well on its own in the wilds. Coloring like that would work better for the snowy mountains than green forests. "What am I going to do with you, Greyson?" The fox's ears perked up as he spoke to it. "Do you like that? How's 'Greyson' sound? I'm not good with names, so I can't think up anything fancy like the others would. Hopefully you won't mind."

Walter reached under the bed to scratch behind Greyson's ears, and the fox was looking a bit better. "No more drinks at the tavern, hear? Just look at what one did to you. You only get a sip at best–no more." Time seemed to crawl on by at a tortoise's pace until he could hear people leaving their homes. Finally, he could get some food.

As the night rolled by,, it felt as if her body was floating down a stream… her sleeping breath was turned into the ripples of the waves, her body lazily floating through. There was nothing to get a hold of to control herself, but the feeling was calm… relaxing. The drift in the water was very lazy and nothing to worry about. The rest of the world outside of that bubble was an incoherent mess of blur. Not even the river ahead was clear, but it did not matter. The flow of the water was taking her mind away from any form of worry.

The deeper she fell into her sleep, the lighter her feet felt, causing her to feel as if she was taking a current up a hill. How was never really a bother. Her mind swam with it, accepting it as fact as she drifted through. Time was not even an element in her mind as she was caught in the waves of the dream waters… until the waters started to turn a bit. Muddling and chatter from outside in the early morning as people readied for their daily tasked turned into the sound of rapids, causing her body to now roll and spin in the growing current. Her body was flowing faster as her feet were now getting heavy, making her feel as if she had started falling. Faster and faster she fell as more weight drew to her feet before the image of the ground came to her.

CLA-DUNK

Her body rolled off the bed and landed her on the solid floor, waking her up roughly with a groan in her voice. Her head was feeling cramped and her stomach was rolling like a wheel. The morning sun was barely breaking into her window, but it was plenty enough to cause a howl of pain and agony to leave her lips. The pain in her head was like she was thrown into an anvil, and her collar felt as tight as ever, forcing her to unlatch it and let it dangle around her throat, trying to get her breath while fighting the feeling of something trying to push out the other way,

Leaving his room with Greyson hidden well inside his bag, he went to check on how Eden was doing. Listening at the door, when he didn't hear anything he knocked loudly. "Eden? You alright?" She might not even be awake, seeing how much she drank the night before. Maybe it would be better to let her sleep it off. It was then he heard a hair-raising howl, and grimaced. The hangover must be kicking in right about now. That meant she was awake, unfortunately. She definitely wasn't feeling well, so he went downstairs to ask for a few things. A bucket, for starters–especially for someone's first hangover. She'd need water too, just as much as the bucket. Asking for someone working at the inn to open her door for him, he gave them his thanks. He had to say that she was family to keep them from making faces, or else run the risk of getting into trouble himself. In hindsight he probably shouldn't have locked her in the room.

Bringing the bucket over in front of her, he put the clean water aside. Taking a sheet to cover up the window so it would be less bright, he quietly whispered to the hungover beastkin woman. "I'll be back soon Eden. I'm going to ask around and see if anybody has something so you'll feel better. I need to get some for Greyson too for being just as sick." Scratching his head, he was guilty. He should've stopped her after the third one instead of letting her keep going. Gingerly lifting the white and grey fox out of his bag, he set the whimpering animal on the floor by the bucket. With that done, he closed the door gently to not aggravate their headaches.

The market was open, and for once it was good he was up so early. Looking around all the stalls with herbs and medicines, he asked an elf woman what he soon learned to be an absurd question. "Pardon ma'am, but do you have anything for curing a hangover?" The woman's face had a look of disbelief, which was covered up very well as raised eyebrows. "A cure for a…hangover you say? I'm afraid we don't have anything like that." Disappointed, he sighed. "Oh, I see. Thanks for your time." As he turned to find if anywhere else had what he needed, the woman interrupted. "I wouldn't bother asking the other shops for it either. Now sir, it isn't that we don't have any in stock–it's because there is no such thing as a cure for hangovers. I can sell you something to relieve headaches and nausea, which I assume is what you want?"

Giving his best smile despite his embarrassment, he nodded. "I'd like that, please. How much?" He came back with two bottles of some sort of liquid concoction, and his coin pocket fifty crescents lighter. A steep price, but he was desperate to try anything at this point. Coming back to see how Eden was doing, he uncorked a bottle and took a whiff. It was sweet, but not too strong-smelling. Hopefully it would work.

While the sound of Greyson heading in was comforting, it was nearly impossible to really tell what he was saying. All she could tell was that there was now a bucket in front of her, a glass of water, and the sheet she slept on was now over the window, blocking out the morning sun. A good thing, too, considering how sensitive her eyes suddenly became to the light. However, as fast he was in, the werewolf was out, leaving the fox spirit next to her. But why was she left with a bucket in the first place? Her mind could hardly process what need there was for it until the feeling in her throat pushed up against her even harder this time, causing her to vomit forward.

While some of it still landed on the floor at the first time though, it was clear it was meant to control the mess that was coming out of a place where it should not. After a few more passes, she was finally able to get her breath back, even though saliva was dropping from her mouth, ears were flat on her head, and tail laid dead on the floor. Her throat was covered in bile, and its lingering taste was anything but pleasant. Only guessing that was the reason for the water, she was sure to chug it down to help wash it away before clasping her shackle collar back closed once more before she felt like she was going to white out once more.

By the time Greyson had returned. Eden had pulled herself back into bed, trying to keep the room from spinning, though she was able to stir herself back up when he did, taking the small bottle she was given. Eyeing him, she assumed it was for the best before swigging it down right quick, though was quick to cough up a bit of a storm from what she took it. It was sweet alright, and her palette had not been accustomed to the taste, making the bitter cover of most medicine actually seem worse than without it. Still, she drink it all, though stuck her tongue out at the bottle when she was finished.

Walter let out a sigh of relief when Eden managed to keep the concoction down. Hopefully she'd start feeling better afterwards. "Maybe it should've watered it down before giving it you." The tracker said sheepishly. He'd thought that something sweet would make the medicine easier to swallow, but forgot that was his human side talking. Most carnivorous beasts didn't have much of a sweet tooth unless they developed one. Most foods were an acquired taste, the same went for alcohol. Taking a seat on the bed, he took out the second bottle. Now a bit wiser, he poured only half and mixed the rest with water in a bowl he then placed on the floor. Greyson was crawling under the bed, whimpering and still feeling awful from the hangover. Luckily he didn't drink so much as to vomit, but it was bad to hear him so uncomfortable.

"Come on, I know your head hurts but you need water. Just a few sips, I won't push you." He coaxed the bicolored fox out from its retreat with a strip of dried meat, and Greyson tentatively lapped up some of the watered-down medicine. Hiding back into the shade of the bed's underside, that was probably as much as he could take for the time being. It was now moving towards midday, and he could see the brightness of the light change as it filtered through the bed sheet. So far neither of them had breakfast, but with both Greyson and Eden still recovering he wasn't sure if now was a good time to give them food. "Feeling any better?" He asked her. "Whenever your stomach stops throwing a protest, I'll get us some food. Something easy to digest to not upset it again."

Hangovers were hard to judge on how long they'd last. Some people got over it in a few hours, others took a whole day. He still had enough coin on him if she needed more time to rest, and she might recover faster with bed rest than outside. And if she needed anything else, it'd be easier to find in the city limits. Water was probably the best thing the beastkin woman needed now. In the rare times when he'd woken up with a hangover, it helped make his head pound less. After those times he swore off alcohol for months, not even wanting to smell or taste it. Eden was probably having it worse as she downed so much on an empty stomach.  

A small nod came from the girl, though her tongue tasting the air still showed the unfondness of the sweet medicine. It did not linger too long on her tongue, but it was still enough to let her know it simply existed until she went for the cup of water again to push it away. However, with her head still feeling so heavy, she took a moment to rest her back along the wall the bed was pushed upon, but the soft flooring the bed gave made it nearly impossible to get truly settled, finding herself sliding down and rolling over as if she was hit with a sudden sleep spell. Not exactly the most comfortable position, to say the least…

As soon as she seemed to have fallen asleep, the manticore the rested itself in the room gave out a large yawn before its body began to fade away, vanishing into the aether as if it was never there. Then again, the entity itself was more of a spirit, leaving the sleeping Eden alone with the man and his fox spirit alone as she slept the hours away… Well, more specially about two hours. A long nap for sure, but it was certainly enough that when she pushed herself back up, her skull wasn't pounding as hard as it used to.

Pushing herself back up, Her fingers went back to the latch that held closed the metal collar and undid it once more, following her breathing exercises, though struggling to keep focused when her stomach spoke up. The first time it snapped her out, she saw the man still by her side. "… You still here?" echoed to him as she tilted her head in confusion.

There was a whining noise as Walter reached down to pull the gray and white fox out from beneath the bed. "Shh, Greyson. What is it?" The fox rolled over on its back and looked up, whimpering and fussing. Then he heard a voice in his mind, and saw Eden was up too. "Eden? How's your stomach? Is your head hurting less?" It had been an uneventful couple of hours, keeping an eye on them both. Greyson had been tossing and turning on the floor, making grumbling and high-pitched whines. Finally he had settled down an hour into his fit, and fell asleep. Walter almost joined him, but was woken up when one of the inn's staff knocked asking if anybody wanted room service. He declined, and tried to muffle Greyson so they wouldn't think about checking.

Noticing the manticore was gone, he wasn't sure if it had left when he nodded off or was still in the room. Eden's stomach gave a growl, and Walter realized it was well past morning. Glancing at his fox looking expectantly at him, he put the two together. "You're looking a lot better now. I think it's time we all had some food–and no more drinks." He gave the fox a stern look, to which Greyson averted his gaze. "You'd better not think about trying to eat everything you see that looks or smells new, Greyson." The room was cleaned up, and the bucket was set aside for housekeeping to retrieve later.

Setting Greyson on his feet, the tracker stood up and began fixing up the window he had covered up while Eden was recovering. The shadows out on the streets were short, so only half of the day had passed. That left some time for him to stock up before heading back to Canelux.