Waking from a drug-fueled haze, Dimitri spends a moment reorganizing his den before the hunger hits him harder. He slinks out of the cavern, making his way to the food caches. He'll only take something small. That's what it's for, his midnight adventures before he'll end up taking more flower to stay passed out.

He chooses a leg that's been set aside, mostly because the meat's mostly dry, and then heads to the lake shore to eat. He tears at the dried meat, chewing its tough parts and swallowing with such fervor that he almost feels pain. No one's awake at this hour except for him and the ghosts. And it turns out there is one ghost he should expect. The constant looming presence of Sreda, given the beauty of what she had done the morning of.

He senses her before he smells her. If you were to ask him, they share a bond that's almost supernatural in origin. And yet he hasn't spent much time with her recently, not since he moved his den to the mountains and got deeper into oracle work. The quiet had been required, and he was also too anal about the specific organization of the den to live with someone for very long.

It's for the better, probably.

He glances at her. "Come to see the ghosts?" He thinks back to that one blood moon. The adventure they had... "Bit unfortunate, I haven't seen one of them tonight." Except for him, maybe. Houtu knows he feels like a ghost these days.