I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
That sleeps in me;
Navyri approached the Ox’s Bellow and its windows radiating warm light and a rather welcoming repose amidst the dreary fall, a small line of people piling through the front door while Delilah smiled at the door. She tipped her wing and swept towards the entrance, opening up and landing with a decisive drop, droplets of mist clinging to windswept hair, “What’s all this?” Navyri asked, just as two colored flagons were held up between them.
“Soren didn’t tell you? It’s Single’s Night. Here-” Delilah gave a wiggle of each one, “Red is for relationships, green is for fun.”
“Romantic ones? But why?” Navyri could feel the heat from the room as women meandered from the back to sing. In the hands of patrons, red appeared to be the most popular color, and she had the decency to let her fingers hover in indecisiveness. The choice was already made, even after the discounts were relayed. “Certainly not red.”
Delilah handed her the emerald flagon which she eyed dubiously on her way to the bar, turning it over instead of allowing it to be filled. She pushed it away and drummed her fingertips along the bar with a sly smile.
“Four shots, please and thank you.”
Billiam “Not a flagon?”
“Not yet,” Navyri wasn’t sure if she was going to stick around - from what it looked like everyone around her was nearly two decades younger. Were they all so eager to settle down? Billiam poured her four drinks and she downed the first one, observing a twenty-something buy a drink for a girl at the other end of the bar. Navyri slid some coins across the counter, not that she had to, but she didn’t like the image of mooching off her partner or receiving special treatment. Even if … well, she was.
She pushed the empty glass away and grabbed the next.
A dark haired young lady - as her green dress seemed more formal and she sat stiff and straight - was accompanied by an older woman. By the expression of chastisement, the relationship seemed obvious, “Imagining hunting for dick with your mother,” Navyri laughed and her chest bloomed with alcoholic heat. The second shot slid down her throat and she licked her lips, “Is that normal among humans? How unfortunate.” Billiam was preparing another drink, but she could see his repressed smile, ever friendly but always polite, “I mean, am I wrong? Unless I’ve drastically misunderstood the definition of fun.”
Someone decided to brave the family dynamic, but only after mother was somewhat distracted thanks to… Soren. She hadn’t noticed him at first - the tavern owner had an uncanny ability of blending in when he wanted to, or maybe she only thought of herself. He was dressed well… better than usual, she admitted with a bit of reluctance, but the man who had wandered over to speak to the older female had done so from his direction. Navyri would be willing to bet that somehow, he had orchestrated that maneuver and when the daughter was lead to the dance floor and gave a pleading look to Soren… Navyri smirked.
She grabbed the last two shots and slid from her stool, gliding across the floor quickly and held one out to the older man. The dance would be starting soon and she hadn’t yet decided if she wanted to participate, “Playing matchmaker, or playing God?” she teased, pushing one of the shots into Soren’s hand. Surely he wouldn’t deny a gift, “If you want to help her, I could steal her date, I’m sure... It's not really stealing if they’re willing, is it?”
Navyri swallowed the third drink and was contemplating what kind of dancer the lanky boy might be. Goodness - he looked like a child. Was he even allowed to be here? Burning up from the temperature of the room, she stepped to the side and undid her fur coat, sliding it off and tossing to on the back of a chair. Not expecting the event, she wasn’t quite dressed for entertaining, the feathered blessing peeking out from the confines of their gloves and ending at her elbow, “You should have mentioned your lonely hearts club at breakfast,” she added, not quite reprimanding but there was a lacing of faint annoyance. Another drink and that would fade, “I would have found someplace to sleep where the moons are not so bright.”
“Soren didn’t tell you? It’s Single’s Night. Here-” Delilah gave a wiggle of each one, “Red is for relationships, green is for fun.”
“Romantic ones? But why?” Navyri could feel the heat from the room as women meandered from the back to sing. In the hands of patrons, red appeared to be the most popular color, and she had the decency to let her fingers hover in indecisiveness. The choice was already made, even after the discounts were relayed. “Certainly not red.”
Delilah handed her the emerald flagon which she eyed dubiously on her way to the bar, turning it over instead of allowing it to be filled. She pushed it away and drummed her fingertips along the bar with a sly smile.
“Four shots, please and thank you.”
Billiam “Not a flagon?”
“Not yet,” Navyri wasn’t sure if she was going to stick around - from what it looked like everyone around her was nearly two decades younger. Were they all so eager to settle down? Billiam poured her four drinks and she downed the first one, observing a twenty-something buy a drink for a girl at the other end of the bar. Navyri slid some coins across the counter, not that she had to, but she didn’t like the image of mooching off her partner or receiving special treatment. Even if … well, she was.
She pushed the empty glass away and grabbed the next.
A dark haired young lady - as her green dress seemed more formal and she sat stiff and straight - was accompanied by an older woman. By the expression of chastisement, the relationship seemed obvious, “Imagining hunting for dick with your mother,” Navyri laughed and her chest bloomed with alcoholic heat. The second shot slid down her throat and she licked her lips, “Is that normal among humans? How unfortunate.” Billiam was preparing another drink, but she could see his repressed smile, ever friendly but always polite, “I mean, am I wrong? Unless I’ve drastically misunderstood the definition of fun.”
Someone decided to brave the family dynamic, but only after mother was somewhat distracted thanks to… Soren. She hadn’t noticed him at first - the tavern owner had an uncanny ability of blending in when he wanted to, or maybe she only thought of herself. He was dressed well… better than usual, she admitted with a bit of reluctance, but the man who had wandered over to speak to the older female had done so from his direction. Navyri would be willing to bet that somehow, he had orchestrated that maneuver and when the daughter was lead to the dance floor and gave a pleading look to Soren… Navyri smirked.
She grabbed the last two shots and slid from her stool, gliding across the floor quickly and held one out to the older man. The dance would be starting soon and she hadn’t yet decided if she wanted to participate, “Playing matchmaker, or playing God?” she teased, pushing one of the shots into Soren’s hand. Surely he wouldn’t deny a gift, “If you want to help her, I could steal her date, I’m sure... It's not really stealing if they’re willing, is it?”
Navyri swallowed the third drink and was contemplating what kind of dancer the lanky boy might be. Goodness - he looked like a child. Was he even allowed to be here? Burning up from the temperature of the room, she stepped to the side and undid her fur coat, sliding it off and tossing to on the back of a chair. Not expecting the event, she wasn’t quite dressed for entertaining, the feathered blessing peeking out from the confines of their gloves and ending at her elbow, “You should have mentioned your lonely hearts club at breakfast,” she added, not quite reprimanding but there was a lacing of faint annoyance. Another drink and that would fade, “I would have found someplace to sleep where the moons are not so bright.”
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
