Heather froze, watching Balgair and Julius, as she felt something she hadn’t felt before. It was almost as if she could sense the approval from the two men and some third source she couldn’t identify. It only took her a moment to realize that it must be Ananke herself. The overwhelming feeling of approval was such that she almost felt she could get drunk on it. “Maighstir, what is, what am I?” Feeling light-headed, she curled into Balgair. Why do I feel drunk?
Concern crossed Balgair’s mind, and he reached up and placed his palm on her forehead. Can she be sick? No, she doesn’t feel warm. His hand slid down under her chin, and he tilted her head back so he could look into her eyes. No, she’s not sick. Without breaking eye contact, he reached into the bond and examined it critically to ensure it wasn’t damaged. He tentatively explored her emotions and blinked as he shared what she was feeling. What’s this? It's almost as if she’s drunk.
“Mo tè àlainn, Did you eat or drin…
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