"AAAWOOOOOOOOOO!"
After returning to the cavern, Aestrea suddenly stopped right at the entrance, one hand still on the doorframe, as his eyes slowly drifted toward the source of the strange noise.
James stood on top of a long oak table, shirt half untucked, face red, hair a mess, head thrown back as he howled again, louder and worse.
"...What the fuck happened in the twenty minutes I was gone?" he mumbled in complete confusion.
In the distance, Derek sat on a bench near the center table, one arm hooked around the backrest, watching James with tired eyes and a crooked smile.
Aestrea approached him, and Derek instantly turned toward him, as if he had heard his steps, even with all the chaos.
"HE'S BACK!" Derek roared.
Derek slammed both hands on the table and stood up so fast his bench scraped across the floor. He was clearly drunk now, his eyes bright, stance wide, balance questionable.
"THE MAN! THE MYTH! THE WALKING DISASTER HIMSELF!"
