"...you should see giant, pink cats when you're still drunk, not hungover..."
Mumbling, Wilhelmina tried to sit up in bed.
The room was spinning like a ...very spinny thing. She was reasonably certain there were demented drummers tapping on the inside of her skull.
Dejaal barely managed to dodge out of the way as she lurched for the nearest basin.
She'd been drinking on an empty stomach--which had meant the 'gravedigger' she'd downed hit her hard and fast, but now she was grateful. Dejaal waited, wisely not saying anything.
Wilhelmina finally straightened up, wiping sweat-soaked dark bangs out of her eyes.
She blinked at the kindred tiger. "Your fur really is bright pink."
*Yes.* His tail switched back and forth. He sounded vaguely grumpy. *The Lady was trying to craft an illusion spell and...it went wrong. She says it will be gone by tomorrow.
* He brushed his head against her fingers. *She said you should drink plenty of water, and a healing brew. It's on the table.*
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