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[ziggyzoggy]

[ Vol'jin had woken up with aches and pains all over, his mouth full of what he could only assume was the flavor of whatever poor unfortunate thing had crawled into his mouth and died there. He felt like ass. His shoulder hurt more than it had in months, and he was exhausted. So much for having a restful night.

...Or however long it had really been.

So, excuse his disheveled appearance, lace of face paint and disarrayed hair. He's still a bit out of it. Rubbing at the inside corner of one eye with his thumb, he speaks before picking up the steaming mug of whatever that is nearby. It had partially obscured a plate full of very picked clean bones, a few bread crumbs and a couple slices of as-of-yet-uneaten cheese. He sniffed loudly. ]

What'd I miss?

[ --And takes a drink. Forgive his brevity, Caer Scima; he's been through a great deal in the last week. It's wearing on him.

Please tell him he didn't miss the feast, though; he still feels like he could eat the entire banquet by himself. ]
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