"Speak for yourself, 'Ferre" Bahorel crossed over to the fridge and claimed a bottle. Taking a swig, and turning back around, he grinned to see the others standing together.
Like old times, indeed.
He felt his mind swim suddenly, as memories pushed their way to the fore, overlaying his vision with other (similar) faces. Steadying himself against the wall, he took another sip at his drink, letting the visions quietly play out. It was disorienting, yet comforting somehow.
And better yet, the arrival of Lesgles and his feline charge seemed to have distracted the other two from that damn misspelled bottle label.