All well and good; Severa doesn't stand much of a chance of remembering any part of this evening with the way she's been pounding mead.

"She was around, but she was always practicing. Trying to get better, as though you could build on perfection." Her eyes half-close as she conspicuously grimaces. "This isn't really the kind of conversation I want to have. I need to stop bringing up my family." Her better judgment is telling her she shouldn't go for a third glass of this sweet ambrosia, but her emotions are fighting back. "I'm drinking; it should be a time of celebration, not depression."