[Don't ask about swooning in front of all these soldiers!! Not that any of them are still listening to this, or if they are, are sober enough to remember or care-- once the rest of the party stumbles into sight in the distance, a fair number of these guys are bound to get up and cheer their way over to the others. Carver will not complain about this even a little; he's had it with glory, he only wants, uh... to talk to Anders, he supposes.

And several drinks. Maker have mercy on him, but he makes the terrible mistake of glancing at Anders' face when he looks at him like that, and it's all he can do to mutter,] I won't swoon for anything less than a thousand.

[Ahem. He collects himself long enough to roll his eyes about Nathaniel-] At least the bastard is alive enough to give people shit.

[-and then shifts to nudge Anders to scoot over on his shitty bench or whatever, so that Carver can also sit down. Can he just take Anders' drink from him? He's going to try, but like, not very hard. Give him a cup, he needs it.]

Just how exhausted are you? [he's not concerned!!] I'll finish the drinking, you ought to go to bed.

[Hmm, the keep is a wreck... do they have beds anymore... that's Future Carver's problem. It's Anders' problem, right now, to deal with the double whammy of Carver demanding he go away and sleep but also not-too-roughly throwing an arm around his shoulders? To... steady him? Maybe he should ignore Carver's demands, as usual.]