Redhawk Caldera Skull

Something about her behavior struck him as weirdly familiar, though he couldn't put a finger on it. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded, both alarmed and slightly annoyed by her inability to explain herself... or walk, for that matter. "Are you sick?" She was an aspiring Healer, so hopefully she would realize if she was suddenly coming down with something, especially something contagious.

And then a very old memory resurfaced: Atticus came stumbling back to the meadow, giggling to himself. He smelled like ripe fruit... and sex. Peregrine teased him about his girly laugh and wanted to know, "The hell's up with you, man? And why do you smell like snatch?!" Atticus hiccuped as he described a pretty she-wolf by the name of... well, shit, he couldn't remember right at the moment. But they had 'gotten drunk' together, which evidently involved eating rotting fruit. "We banged a bunch," Atticus reported with another giggle before collapsing in a heap at his brother's paws.

The next morning, Peregrine recollected, his brother had felt like garbage and he could only remember bits and pieces of the prior day's events. He had therefore never been interested in pursuing this "get drunk" business, even if Atticus's night had sounded like a whole lot of fun... funny to think back on it now and realize that that was the night when Bones et al had been conceived...

Blinking back to present day, Peregrine asked sharply, "Are you wasted right now?"