Word Count: 202
It wasn't Drakien's kind of day. Perhaps that was simply because it was too early, perhaps it was because he'd been drinking Romani Moonshine last night...either could be the problem. With a slight groan, the male rolled off the nest of furs he'd made in the night and shook himself, shrugging his shirt back into place. There was some sort of commotion outside, and he rubbed a hand over his face before going to see what the problem was, looking just about as hungover as he felt.
Cai was chasing a squirrel. In, up, around the tree he went; Drakien got somewhat dizzy just looking at him, and had no idea why the male didn't just cut the less intelligent animal off at the pass. He might have gotten up and helped, at another time, as the squirrel was very clearly something his dear brother wanted very badly--or it had something he wanted badly--but at the moment Drakien couldn't be bothered, so he simply fished a bottle out of his bags and popped the cork, figuring the best cure to a hangover was more alcohol.
After another moment, he lifted the bottle and yelled, "Poluchitʹmalenʹkiĭ ublyudok, Cai!"[/html]