Chapter seven

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Winter ate his breakfast. Even if he wasn't hungry at all.

Moon was missing. Probably somewhere away from him, Winter guessed, chewing on a piece of bear meat. Qibli was missing too, but Winger couldn't make a guess where he went. That SandWing was either up to no good or just avoiding Winter.

The latter seemed more and more likely as time passed, and Winter saw none of his friends greeting him or just shooting him a smile. A sense of dread began to settle in his chest, engulfing his heart and dragging it down.

Winter couldn't concentrate on his studies for once. He was trying to clear his thoughts, waving all the foggy dazed daydreams away but they kept drifting into his mind, each one of them carved with faces of Moon and finally Winter decided he needed a break.

He took a walk down the campus, trailing past trees and rustling leaves, the night gradually settling in the sky like a dark blanket coating over the bright canvas of blue.

The bar was across the street. Winter had went there once, when his brother passed away and he felt like a lifeless being- he had went here, drinking his sorrows away.

He pushed the glass door open with a shove, and a ruggedly bartender stood at the counter, his black scales dark brown like charred volcanic rocks, black wings dappled with unsightly silver shone brightly, reflecting starbursts into the room.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here," Morrowseer drawled, his eyes sinister. Winter felt bile rise up his throat, and he roughly took a seat, glaring at the NightWing before him. Morrowseer was a wanted criminal and Winter didn't know how he still didn't get caught after all these years at the bar. Rumor had it that he had violently abused his family, a wife and a daughter, but that was another tale to tell.

"Whiskey." Winter snapped, his eyes scanning the place. It seemed no different than the last time he'd been in here, lights still hanging around the room, barely suspended by a single piece of wire.

"Sure." Morrowseer dropped a glass onto the table and fumbled for the shelve of bottles lining the area. He poured the transparent liquid in, and the stench of alcohol immediately made Winter want to wrinkle his snout, but he relished it, inhaling the aroma like the sting of smoke.

Winter downed the glass quickly, feeling the liquid make its way down his throat like warm acid- like petrol oil, churning and brewing until it filled his entire body, a plague that spread heat across his face.

"Another." Winter said, dazed, and Morrowseer arched his eyes, pouring another shot.

"What happened?" Morrowseer asked.

"Just some stupid dragon stuff." Winter huffed, not sure if his words were tumbling out like clumsy elephants or the alcohol was getting to him already. Morrowseer pushed the glass back to Winter, who gulped it down again, fast, and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

"Ah. Too young to get into love, I see." Morrowseer narrowed his eyes, although not in a hostile way, it was just subtle amusement making its way into the NightWing's expression.

"Shut up." Winter shot back, and stood up. He felt his worries lift into the sky, and elation flooded through his nerves, his veins, his head, and all he could feel was the loud thumping of his heart beating wildly in his ears.

"Leaving so soon?" Morrowseer questioned.

"I better. I think I'm drunk."

Winter walked towards the door, and then his feet made a sharp left turn and Winter narrowly avoided slamming into the wall.

"Sure. You think."

"Shut up!"

Morrowseer cleared the table, his wings folding. "Money for the drinks?"

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