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Summary
“I remembered,” he starts, holding Angel’s glass still and pouring the wine in. It’s red, smells strong, and Angel hums in acknowledgment to what Husk is saying, watching his glass fill, “that I had this bottle downstairs. Hadn’t opened it.” Once he’s done with Angel, he pours his own, setting the bottle down on the floor beside the bed. “I don’t know what I was saving it for. But—I figured no better time to have it than the night before the end of our existence.”
(Nobody can sleep before the battle, so Husk and Angel make the most of what little time they might have left.)