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it's not quite to the prompt old bean but i got it as close as i could ^_~
Gum's fermented folly was coming to an end. The star dashed sky sang a crisp winter ballad to his narrow old eyes. He stared back at the constellations, the way they stared at him. "I am old," conceded the shaman to himself as he walked away from the fading coals of a night's celebration. He did so aloud, so it was to himself in spirit only. Spirits were speaking, but they spoke to him even when he wasn't weakened by wine. "A shaman isn't bound in celibacy you know!" it was the whispering echo of his grandfather. Without the barrier between life and death to cultivate melancholy sentiment, it enabled in Gum an ability to disregard his elders. The familiar refrain of parents around the world, "you should listen your granddad, he won't be around forever" rang hollow for the gifted medium. He ignored his grandfather to his shame, it was against his character. Alcohol was a slick lubricant for the rudest behaviour.