#beaumogen

Beau called out, “Hey, you look like you could use a drink.”

The woman, Imogen, turned back. “I’m not even sure if I know your name, and you’re just… rollin’ with us now?”

“Seems like it. I’m Beau. Hey, the least you could do after almost knocking me out with those spells is sit down with me and have a drink, yeah?”

Imogen sighed and stepped over to where Beau was situated. She had kind of a hardened look, from what Beau could tell, and didn’t exactly seem too willing. Nevertheless, she asked, “And what kind of drink do you have there?”

Beau shrugged. “Booze. It’s, um, a magical flask. And it was kind of gifted slash stolen from someone, so I’m not sure exactly what kind of booze, but it’s definitely got a good kick to it.”

“Why the fuck not,” Imogen muttered. “I’ll have a drink with you.” She pulled a chair over, and Beau handed her the flask.

Imogen took a swig, not as hearty of a swig as Beau would have taken, but then she said, “I shouldn’t have hit you with those spells earlier. I was real worried about my friend.”

Beau took a moment. “You know, people getting in my head is kind of a fucked up thing for me.”