WESSEX
In the end she decides for it, taking her empty tankard back up to the bar and waiting patiently for the barkeep’s attention. Another ale, cheapest (not like she’ll taste the difference between the piss-yellow swill and the good, dark and hoppy beer), and she pays for it. Taking a moment to turn around and observe the crowd, the Wraith does her best to keep her spot at the bar, sipping slowly and keeping her eyes downcast. Just a tired, overworked and underpaid man, tryin’ to drown it all in drink, like so many men before him.
Gods, sometimes she wished life were that simple. How you doin? she calls quietly out to Nikolai, as she gets halfway through the pour.
Gods, sometimes she wished life were that simple. How you doin? she calls quietly out to Nikolai, as she gets halfway through the pour.
there was a time that we were kind, but now
don't write me, you're not fooling anyone
don't write me, you're not fooling anyone
