He's drunk - very, very drunk - and so he's certainly not seeking her out. It's the next night after they return, and he hasn't let himself be fully sober yet. God, he doesn't want her to see him like this - useless, stumbling, desperate. But perhaps there's some gravitational pull, her on him, or perhaps he's just plagued with perpetual bad luck, because he turns a corner and there she is, right across from him, face-to-face.

"Ah," he says to Sonia, feeling intensely self-conscious and odd. A beat, and then he lifts the bottle of maple mead in his hand. "Drink?"