(no subject)
The door swings open and an old woman walks in. Well, the white hair suggests great age, as do the fine lines around her eyes and mouth. The armor and the muscular shape beneath it, as well as the upsweep of red-tipped horns (or a very fixed hairstyle) from her temples may, however, suggest otherwise.
Still.
She pauses, white brows lifted up in what might pass for surprise.
That expression quickly turns to pleasure -- and amusement -- as she surveys her new surroundings with bright golden eyes.
"Well, well, well. What have we here? It's dirtier than I would have thought, but I suppose one can't have everything."
Though perhaps, when one is in a bar, one might be best served by ordering a drink. Flemeth will get to that.
Soon.
Still.
She pauses, white brows lifted up in what might pass for surprise.
That expression quickly turns to pleasure -- and amusement -- as she surveys her new surroundings with bright golden eyes.
"Well, well, well. What have we here? It's dirtier than I would have thought, but I suppose one can't have everything."
Though perhaps, when one is in a bar, one might be best served by ordering a drink. Flemeth will get to that.
Soon.