It's a Hit...Sorta (Founders)

Godric watched Rowena kiss Helga's cheek and then tear off, likely to fetch something for Helga's head. He'd had enough nights with too much to drink that he was well acquainted with the pain their dear friend would be likely feeling in the morning. A little part of Godric had wished that she'd kissed his cheek too.

Just for luck, of course. Luck was important!

"Come along, my friend," He said jovially, strengthening his hold on her. The last thing he wanted was for her collapse like a puddle of goo. That would just lead to more bumps and scrapes to be embarrassed about in the morning when Helga realized what had happened. After all, there was nothing shameful about getting drunk. It was supposed to have been a party, after all. If only it hadn't been ruined for the other three by business.

Hopefully Helga had been convinced enough to keep moving. Strange that she would remember them now, as her children hadn't been at the school for a little while. Still, weird things came to a person when they were smashed that wouldn't otherwise. And alcohol had the tendency to revert to primal status; for Helga, of course it would be her more maternal attributes.