Feiori's voice echoed slightly, and through closed eyes giving the impression of ghosts. He laughed darkly and let out an abrupt howling noise. He heard Alkaru barking somewhere nearby as a result, and he didn't particularly care. The world had hazed away somewhere halfway through his second bottle, a thing he always looked forward too. He could deal with the impending nausea, the dehydration and the headache the next day. It was almost as if, for a little while, everything was alright.

He had positioned himself on top of one of the taller stone pillars, buzzed while climbing and now so drunk he didn't know whether he was imagining the stars, or is there were holes in a black sheet over his face. Perhaps he had died. He let one leg dangle over the edge of the pillar while he balanced himself rather impressively for his state with his other knee bent. He could hear his wolf whimpering.

Grinning foolishly, he clenched his eyes and tossed back a long pull from the bottle, killing it, and then letting it fall from his hand. The satisfying sound of the glass exploding beneath him made him giggle. He wished he could drop the planet like that, watch it splinter and flash in the light of some metaphysical being just out of vision.

Before he realized quite what he was doing, he moved his hand beside him in an imitation of water. A song came to mind, though he couldn't seem to recall the words. He wondered if he would in the morning. He hummed it, if only to reassure himself he wasn't stuck outside of his own head. The notes rose and fell calmly, if slightly off key. He wanted to play his flute. Too bad then, it sudenly occured to him, he had dropped his bag not too far from the pillar he precariously topped.

Yet again, Gregory found himself flying over a forest he would rather not fly over. The sky above was clear, a deep contrast to the mist-shrouded forests below, and Gregory sadly remembered this forest from a hunt earlier, and he remembered the ruins here. The undead did not bother him; they did not even come close to him, so sleeping among them was no problem for him. A while back he had found one that screamed a bloodcurdling cry of sorrow, and he had, after much research, freed it to the afterlife. Apparently, the other undead were glad to have his loud soul gone, and they never bothered to touch him.

As the wind beat at him, he saw the oncoming ruins clearly in front of him. The mists mixed with the moon's light to create an eerie glow that he could never miss. He began to slow as he approached the decrepit, rotting buildings, and began to lower for a landing just inside their crumbled walls. He slid in his landing, but remained on his feet, a much better outcome from his last night landing, and as he straightened his eyes focused on a lone bag in the middle of the road. The straps were half-open, some of the contents poking out, thick wooden containers. Looked to be used for carrying water, but why not use a bladder?

As he walked over to the bag, he heard an off-key song coming from somewhere ahead and in the sky. Another noisy ghost he would have to be rid of? He was unsure. He picked up the bag and cast his detect undead spell. A crowd of spirits gathered at the base of a pillar ahead, and as he approached they saw him and dissipated into the mists. There was shattered glass at the base of the pillar, and the aroma of liquor emanated from the artifact. Sighing, Gregory spread his wings and swooped the downwards, launching himself upwards to the top of the pillar in one subtle move. The pi0lar looked to be half of an archway that was still standing, and as he hovered at the edge he gave a cool, calculating look to a man laying back and gazing at the stars.

"I assume this is yours?" He extended the bag out to the man, dropping it onto the section of the pillar that extended into the half-arch. This was most definitely not a ghost, rather some oblivious human who looked to be in quite the happy, hypnotic mood. Gregory remained floating there, waiting for a reply and watching the man to gauge his reaction.

Feiori let the last uttered note of his haphazard song trail off as he tilted his head towards whatever had just landed beside him. For a moment, the upside-down image of what appeared to be the lovechild of a man and a large bird didn't register. He frowned, already unconciously checking that his hood was still pulled up over his ears. Alkaru was howling mournfully as a cold wind picked up, picking up the edge of Feiori's dark green cloak.

Unsure of what else to do he pushed himself into a crosslegged position, carefully moving as far away from the thing as the pillar allowed. Without moving his eyes he swung his arm back and began following the edge of the stone with his hand, in search of the place he had slung his spear when he had first climbed up. His finger's knocked leather, the resounding clatter of the whole thing colliding with the ground startled him. He clung to the edges of the pillar with both hands, breathing hard and staring wildly at the thing. Though it had decidedly masculine features, for some reason he couldn't place the wings threw him off. He shot a glance towards the ground, feeling suddenly sick and disoriented.

Feiori lifted his hand and moved it over his eyes, wondering if he had died. Perhaps he had passed out and fallen off the pillar, snapping his neck. Or maybe he had been impaled through the middle by some interfering shard of stone. He glanced back at the man-thing, his lips slightly parted. His eyebrows drew down when it occured to him it was speaking - to him, he realized a second later. Without speaking he extended his hand, leaning forward as far as he dared to, then distantly felt his fingers close around the strap and his body falling back into a sitting position. He rocked backwards alarmingly before he caught his balance and set the bag in front of him, extracting the last bottle of pungent smelling alchohol he had purchased from a none too reputible looking man back in the town's market. He held it up, scowling and meeting the mans eyes.

"I don't care if I died, and you're here to do whatever, but this is mine. Alright? Besides, I'm not religious. What do you want with me?"

While he held himself steady with one hand against the pillar, he put the bottle between his legs and started working on getting the cork out, gritting his teeth with the effort. The wolfs distant howling broke up into a series of irritated sounding barks, and Feiori muttered under his breath what he would have liked to do to the wolf for leaving him as he had. His head felt too quiet.

Gregory released a breath that spoke sentences of how tired he was. Everyone he ever ran into either wanted to use him for their own ideals or wanted him to just go away, and now this guy was accusing him of trying to take the man to the afterlife, of all things. Letting out a frustrated growl, he untied his spear from his chest and tossed it to earth, lodging it into the dirt below. With another short grunt, he spurred his wings foreword to land softly on the largest and most open part of the pillar. Brushing off the spot with his hand, he adjusted his shirt and plopped down cross-legged. The pillar was freezing!

Once seated, he positioned himself until he was comfortable, bending forward and lifting his knees up to meet his chest as he cling to them to keep from leaning back. His back was sore, and this was not relaxing it, but he would rather have a sore back for sitting awkwardly than a sore head from falling. The wind began to drop down, if only for a while, and Gregory went to squeeze some water from his traveling bladder, and moaning despairingly as he squeezed a drop onto his tongue. It was luck that he ran into this boy.

"You have not died yet, I'm not here to take you anywhere, I could care less whether your religious or not, and I've had about enough of you snot-nosed kids assuming that you do not need anybody else but yourselves. So all of that teen angst you have bottled up can go and throw itself off a cliff, for all I care." Gregory enforced his words with a cold stare, his dark eyes piercing his thoughts and revealing his intentions. "Now give me something to drink and tell me just what in the hell you're doing up here?"