Fabien nodded, partially relieved and partially disappointed. He wanted someone to share this experience with. He shut the pouch and tucked it back away, knowing John would not be that person.

Something flew by his head, inches away, to explode against a nearby rock. An empty bottle of some kind.

"Still here?!" a voice bellowed from behind them. Fabien turned sluggishly to see the bartender at the doorway, the flicking lights of the tavern outlining him in a fiery orange glow.

Fabien tried to rise to his feet, but stumbled back down. He felt dizzy and heavy, and his breathing was heavier than normal.

And then the bartender began moving out onto the porch and down the steps of his establishment, a sweaty brow shining in the moonlight. He wasn't alone, as a handful of his most loyal customers followed him out, one pounding his fist into his palm like an eager caricature. They weren't after John, as he'd paid for his inebriation.

"Beat this kid 'til he's learned his fuckin' lesson!" the human bellowed.

Fabien managed to make it to his feet, and eyed John pleadingly. He couldn't run away in his present state, he knew, and whatever magic he could conjure was unstable at best.