The guard walked Neve and Aldric into the cave where Soren was waiting.
Soren was drunk.
It was morning and he was already drunk. He had finished the second barrel of wine that had been gifted to the leopard tribe during the last festival. The expensive wine was wasted on his drunken stupor.
Neve felt his nose burn when he entered the cave. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming. The stench was so strong that he almost stepped back immediately.
But the guard shoved him forward from behind, making him stumble and nearly fall.
"Don't push my mate to be now," Soren said, his words slurred as he waved his hand dismissively.
He was leaning back on the chair he was sitting in, his body loose and uncoordinated. His eyes were glazed over. His movements were slow and deliberate like he was fighting against his own body.
Neve steadied himself and looked at the leopard chief with disgust.
