Aeryn rubbed her hands together at the table, looking at the tankard of ale that had been set in front of her with a bemused expression. She'd had it before - surely? She just couldn't recall. There was so much going on within the inn too that she could barely focus on anything, her brain scattered and tired after the events of the day so far. She rubbed the tip of her nose with a finger, and tucked a set of loose strands of hair behind her ear before raising the tankard to her lips for a sip.
GROSS! Disgusting! Absolutely no flavour whatsoever!
She stuck her tongue out in disgust, and opted to slide her tankard along the table to any other takers. Now, some Dorcha Chilli Whisky? That would go down a treat and parch her appetite for a drink. She doubted they'd stock such a thing here. Her lips pouted and tugged to the side comically as she just sat in her seat, watching the merriment around her. She gave thought to the last few days, her rescue from the guardsmen and subsequent meeting with this gang of misfits. As she eyed them all up, she wasn't sure who was the strangest of the whole party. Was it really her? Probably not.
She shrugged and waited for Beren to return. She liked Beren, he had been the one whom she had noticed first during the events of her rescue. He did seem to be quite a strange fellow but she couldn't put her finger on what that was. As he hadn't yet arrived, she plucked herself up from her seat and moved timidly over to watch the three man who were knife throwing a little closer. Each of them had poor technique that she couldn't help but chuckle at. Eventually one of them noticed, and challenged her to do better - and so she took the throwing knife from his grip and flung it with a gentle flick of her delicate wrist towards the board. Of course, it landed with a dull thud right in the centre - and deep too, a splinter of wood falling out from under the silver blade. She smiled arrogantly, surprised that the three boys had been so eager to trust a Dorcha with a blade. It set her at ease, and for the first time all day she genuinely smiled and forgot her troubles.
GROSS! Disgusting! Absolutely no flavour whatsoever!
She stuck her tongue out in disgust, and opted to slide her tankard along the table to any other takers. Now, some Dorcha Chilli Whisky? That would go down a treat and parch her appetite for a drink. She doubted they'd stock such a thing here. Her lips pouted and tugged to the side comically as she just sat in her seat, watching the merriment around her. She gave thought to the last few days, her rescue from the guardsmen and subsequent meeting with this gang of misfits. As she eyed them all up, she wasn't sure who was the strangest of the whole party. Was it really her? Probably not.
She shrugged and waited for Beren to return. She liked Beren, he had been the one whom she had noticed first during the events of her rescue. He did seem to be quite a strange fellow but she couldn't put her finger on what that was. As he hadn't yet arrived, she plucked herself up from her seat and moved timidly over to watch the three man who were knife throwing a little closer. Each of them had poor technique that she couldn't help but chuckle at. Eventually one of them noticed, and challenged her to do better - and so she took the throwing knife from his grip and flung it with a gentle flick of her delicate wrist towards the board. Of course, it landed with a dull thud right in the centre - and deep too, a splinter of wood falling out from under the silver blade. She smiled arrogantly, surprised that the three boys had been so eager to trust a Dorcha with a blade. It set her at ease, and for the first time all day she genuinely smiled and forgot her troubles.