Swirling in his gut, the warmth of the intoxicating liquid built a warmth within his body. His cheeks became flushed and cherry red as his vision swayed, but he wasn't ready to stop.
It was because the dwarf across from him was swaying even more, side-to-side as if the chair he sat in would soon be empty.
I've got this…! He thought.
Bolstering himself with that confidence, he chucked down another two mugs with the cheers of the crowd supplementing him with the will to swallow the liquid that now began to come down arduously.
…Wait a second, he thought.
Trying to focus his gaze as it spiraled and spun, he realized a fatal flaw in his intoxicated logic: Hanorlig wasn't swaying, it was his vision.
Just as he came to that realization, he also came to realize his own body couldn't be felt, as if a blanket of warmth completely bound his movements while he swayed, side-to-side, forwards and backward.
"---?"
