"My feast day, which is rapidly approaching, sees me drunk as fuck even if I didn't drink anything. Once year I ended up in San Francisco with no memory an entire month later. Trying to make out with a tree is...nothing," Patrick mused.
"Not the worst thing that has happened to us in the forest," Padraig laughed.
"Like fucking George?"
"That is not never talking about it again, Patrick!" Padraig hissed.
Clio snorted, "so the Georges and the Patricks are like brothers now, but apparently back in ye olden days, they were less brotherly."