“Calm, She-wolf,” Arshad said, voice even despite the blade kissing his tattooed fingers. Though hemmed in by Lara, increasingly indignant, and Galarian, a stone-faced bouncer who always materialized when discord called, Arshad took the glass from Olivare and emptied it with a single swallow. Almost instantly the wakefulness in his eyes dimmed.
“Came all this way to serve insults, did you?”
“The Tavashanar want you back, damned fools,” Arshad slurred. He frowned, as the glass slipped from his hand.
“I learned one thing from the whores,” Olivare said, smiling.
Slumping sideways, Arshad was enveloped in Galarian’s enormous, muscled arms.
(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: wake, envelop, hem)