He smacked his dry lips. His mouth tasted like ash and vinegar; he was covered in cold sweat; the pain in his head had yet to subside, and he was hallucinating because, for a moment, he swore he saw a blue arc of electricity dance across the skin of his hand. Yep, he had been out drinking last night, heavily so, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall why. He didn’t bother trying to remember last night, for that was a fool’s errand. Instead, he tried going further back and reviewed his recent life the past two weeks up until now, or at least what he most recently remembered. There wasn’t much to tell: get up, go to work, come home late, eat dinner, check Internet for anything interesting, fall asleep, rinse, and repeat. Sure, it was less than ideal, but he was never one to go out and get hammered. What could have driven him to get so smashed that he would go and get so incredibly lost that he was on his own, in the middle of a strange forest, and with no idea how he got there?