Teachers punished those caught out of bed with thirty lashes across the shoulders, but Bohren would gladly risk corporeal pain to make this night one to remember. Or not remember. Still, no one would find them so deep in the King’s Woods. In First Year, Rivek had found this cabin through his way with birds. He claimed sparrows once came here to scavenge scraps from camping royalty, but the king eventually abandoned it for less rugged pursuits. The lock rusted off years ago, but there was no reason to go indoors. The moon filled the clearing with light, and the breeze filled the air with cicada song. Here, they were safe..
Bohren set his stolen quarry on the steps: a flask of whiskey, a phial of wine, and three bottles of beer in varying strengths. Rivek counted them and nodded in approval, “You’re getting better at this.”
“I learned from the best.”
Bohren knew his friend could have walked off with a lot more if he hadn’t been injured. He uncorked a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. “Cheers.”
Eager to reach intoxication, they inhaled the first draft without exchanging words. Rivek smiled but kept one hand over his bruised rib, a reminder of the trial that awaited at noon. Bohren wondered whether the wound had finally scabbed enough that it didn’t need constant re-bandaging.
Rivek rubbed his free hand against his arms for warmth. Immediately, Bohren moved to put his arm around the shivering boy, but another item shift in his pocket. He removed the final bottle of stout from under his coat and set it on the steps.
“Looks like i taught you more than I thought,” Rivek reached for it neck and began undoing the seal with his knife. Already tipsy, he fumbled as he dug the blade into the wax. Even in the dim light, Bohren could see his friend’s cheeks flush.
“You don’t want that one.” Bohren laughed, switching it with a lighter ale. He poured an inch of whiskey into his own glass and swirled it around, letting the pungent alcohol fill his nostrils. The taste never appealed to him much. It made his mouth pucker. His favorite part of drinking was the fire that grew in his stomach like a punch to the abdomen. He downed it in one breath and smiled as the heat travel up his throat, “It’s the night before we die. Better make it a good one.”
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Babarei.”
Drink. - 078/100 Themes.
Rivek is a light-beer sissy who gets Asian glow and passes out after two drinks. If Germans existed in Mondigan, Bohren would be one of them.
More Art Featuring These Characters:

Bohren Tabirian and Rivek Ailinar belong to Grace Fong,

I just love the descriptions of them you wrote in terms of their alcohol intake.
And Rivek, how the hell did you end up on Bohren like that?
PFFBT. RIVEK IS LIKE ME, OKAY?!
...
Actually, his tolerance is better than mine. *headdesk*
...
...
Bohren put him there. *SHOT*
Well....Cheers.
But still is a little sad.