Now there was real vitriol. Kieran had snapped out of his snarky indolence -  not that Jude thought this was a good thing, but at least now it felt less like he was arguing to a brick wall. (Despite that, this was probably a bad thing. There was a strong possibility Kieran was still drunk.)

“You know, I’m sorry about May Day,” Jude began, swallowing hard, “but if you wanted to talk about it you’ve had the time -” it had been days, and Kieran had been nowhere with nothing to say and now he wanted to be pissed about it, now he wanted to face the full moon with whiskey on his breath and probably no sleep, and Jude didn’t even want to think about what miserable state he’d be in by the morning. He ran an exasperated hand through his hair, about ready to start tearing it out. “And seeing as the moon will be out very soon and we don’t have time to cover all your grievances, I thought I had better prioritise.” The rabbit. What was with the fucking rabbit?

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