Yoshiro does not think he'd ever been properly drunk before. Tipsy, yes, but his current state? Absolutely not. Warming the chest with a little sweet nectar was always good for the spirit once in a while, and Yoshiro knew when not to overindulge — lest he become a wreck. Yet with all this talk of love and marrige, both of which he could never seem to get a proper grasp on, the raven poet seemed to have lost track of how many berries he'd consummed.


and it was alot. Oh, so much — the man's head was practicaly spinning like a top. Yet he was happy for once every since the ceremonies died down — washing out the bitter feeling jelousy and of lonliness with a wave of wine. Longing for a connection he had not found yet, or could not find.


— and he didn't know why, or was proably too out of the loop to figure out why, but somewhere along the lines, his wobbly, uncorridnated steps started trailing a path in search of Aosagi.


アオサギく〜ん…… (Aosagi-kunnnnn~) His lids heavy, steps slow, and smile wide. Lazy, toothy.


ここのベリー、もう食べた？すごく美味しいよ。一緒に飲まない？アオサギ…… (Have you tried the berries here? Their amazing. Come drink with me, please? Aosagi--) From behind him, he sought out the familiar pair of sapphire and emrald eyes, and turned his nose back around only to slam into a tree.


—and he lied there, on his side for quite a while.


Sooner or later, he'd even begin to cry.


From the desperation he was hiding behind some booze, the fact that he couldn't find his freind, and how his nose really, really hurt…..