The revelers were stumbling around, blind and deaf. It made Didi sick, not just with revulsion, but also with fear. He swiveled his ears. Trying to find one individual in this swarm was nearly impossible.
A young female lurched toward him, her fur matted. She flopped a wing around Didi. “Y’wanna havva taaste?” she slurred, proffering a gnawed-on chunk of long-fallen fruit, fermented sour.
“I don’t eat windfalls,” Didi said. He fluttered into the air. “Shimsi!” he called. “For God’s sake, come back to the cave! It’s nearly dawn. You’ll be caught on the ground!”
Only drunken laughter answered him.
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