This was all Aspel's fault. If she hadn't started talking about drunk men spinning tales of magical moose - meese? - then Ari would never have taunted him about it, and Merri would have never wanted to go an adventure, and Drake could have stayed the fuck home.
Okay, yes. So he had been bored. But he had not meant to engage a fucking flan. His fists flared and he winced from the sudden brightness. There really wasn't much point because there was no way he was getting near that thing. Instead, he dove for Merri's pack, digging for the herbs. Finding them, he tossed a few to Ari and Altair - Wil was too close to the damn monster flan.
His abilities fortunately weren't hindered by silence, and so he hid behind the nearest tree and concentrated. Curse worked wonders for lowering magic defense, and if Merri could keep casting Fire, Drake could keep the damn thing weak to it at least.