As Leonis awaited his drink he took stock of the company he was forced to keep, the sort of men who flock to the tavern; the lot of them seeming more apt to dwell in the dank oaken cavern of a bar than face the light of day. Gnarled men bent at the waist and hunched at the shoulder, filthy hands with fat, stubby fingers ending abruptly with grimy nails; rotund and gleaming bellies hanging from tattered rags of clothing, no doubt thatched together from canvas sheets meant for sails and the like.
All around him stood lesser beings, in form as in trade; surely none of these, these...degenerates were fit to sail alongside Johnathon Cor Leonis! Scratch that, Captain Johnathon Cor Leonis.
Purring to himself satisfied, a small smirk crept upon his feline lips as the tavern wench finally arrived with his brew. His mug was laid most unceremoniously on the table before him, clanging and ringing as it met the poorly-constructed table; one leg shorter than the others causing the dirty glass to wobble uneasily, teetering before a gargantuan paw seized the murky beverage and lifted it towards an equally large muzzle.
Breathing swiftly of the concoction, Leonis' nostrils began burning with a strong scent of spiced rum and swamp gas. Rearing back, he called defiantly after the bar wench, the tart sauntering towards the leering gaze of the Lessers. Her dress was patched in several places as though mended many times over, though for some reason the tailor never thought to make the dress fall below the woman's knees.
"You call this rum, ya scuddy whore?!"
In a fit of rage, Leonis chucked the brown sludge, mug and all, shattering it against a knotted wooden pillar. The Whore and the Lessers withdrew further into their corner of debauchery as Johnathon rose to his full height quickly, nearly upturning the table with his sudden movement.
Growling low, Leonis donned his hat and clutched his Walking Stick, casting several coins across the still-wobbling table and unto the floor. Making for the exit, the proud sailor ran a single claw across the door, once from to 2 to 7, then 10 to 4, leaving a large X carved in the old wood. Without a word, he then strode out into the daylight to the sound of a drunken shanty.
“All aboard the dingy! If you’re lookin’ for excitement an’ treasure this dingy *hic* is goin’ where you wanna be! All aboard the dingy…”
Leonis raised a large paw to shield his eyes from the sun, growling low in exasperation.
"Not another one."