12.Mar.12, 01:32 AM
"Jada." she snapped, and then tried to soften her tone. But shards, this man... "We met before." he didn't act that drunk. He slurred, he stumbled, but he seemed capable of being rational. Then again, Jada considered herself an optimist, and she didn't want to think about what would happen if he passed out and she had to drag him all the way back to the Candidate barracks. Then again, someone else could come along and help. But chances of that were slim at this hour, she supposed.
Alright. "Up with you." Her tone was decisive, and more than a little bossy. Now he'd hit his head, and she might have to take him to the Healers. When a drunk got head trauma, what were the chances of something bad happening to them? he could have amnesia, or a concussion, or some other tragic head wound, or mental incapacitation.
She pitied whatever Hatchling might choose this one, head wound or not.
Step by step, she dragged him towards the Candidate barracks. Her hand wrapped around the back of his pants at the waistline, in an attempt to control his stumbling. Healer Hall? Or bed? Healer hall? Or bed?
Bed it was, she decided. The Healers were just too far.
Alright. "Up with you." Her tone was decisive, and more than a little bossy. Now he'd hit his head, and she might have to take him to the Healers. When a drunk got head trauma, what were the chances of something bad happening to them? he could have amnesia, or a concussion, or some other tragic head wound, or mental incapacitation.
She pitied whatever Hatchling might choose this one, head wound or not.
Step by step, she dragged him towards the Candidate barracks. Her hand wrapped around the back of his pants at the waistline, in an attempt to control his stumbling. Healer Hall? Or bed? Healer hall? Or bed?
Bed it was, she decided. The Healers were just too far.