Chapter Text
The party had decided to rest in this town overnight, luckily, without pay, thanks to their birdfolk friend Booker beating a drinking game. The dragonborn, known by his party as Idaho, looked across the lousy inn room, squinting over to the other bed the bird in question had claimed… How in the name of the Gods did he drink all of that?
It was his first time drinking last night, so it was no surprise Idaho was experiencing an awful hangover. He was just following along with the rest of the group. An hour later, he was in his bed sobbing madly. He missed everything, his family, a simpler time, and now he was with these people.. He’s glad he freed them, don’t get him wrong, but being associated with prison escapees isn’t the.. best look. But if they need help, Vestaras knows he will help to his final breath.. Though that situation isn’t preferred..
Idaho zoned out as they headed out of the inn. They mumbled nonsensically to the others, something about traveling down the river safely,
“Ambrosiac?”
The word- the name ringed through his ears, as he slowly treaded behind the group, watching the blues, orange and green blur as he turns, his eyes finally focusing. They felt a tightness around their hand, being pulled and held away from them. It was his hands.
“Wesley..? Wait what-what are you doing—“ The festival in town. Right, that makes sense. He firmly nods, making eye contact with the diluted brown dragonborn… His hair wasn’t always that short. They barely processes that he speaks again.
“Your father had contacted me. He’s getting better now. He wants you to head home.”
His exhausted mind spiraled with answers. I’m busy. I’ll send a letter back.
I’ll head that way.
I’m not going home.
My home is with you.