To Wet One's Whistle [Open]

[Darrow Lark]

The tavern door creaked open slowly as Darrow pushed against the sturdy wood. Music, chatter, and clinking mugs assailed her ears, causing the wolf to grimace slightly. She had hoped that the tavern wouldn't be filled with too many creatures so early in the morning, but alas, it seemed she was cursed to endure the company of others.

Darrow grumbled under her breath before she finally entered the tavern. Sunlight filtered through the windows, and with the addition of some burning candles, the room was well lit, much to Darrow's satisfaction. The gold wolf certainly did not enjoy the darkness and for good reasons.

Dropping her paw to one of her blades, she slowly moved around the tables, watching her step. She winked her blind eye shut, allowing the good one to rove through the room. Once or twice she brushed a chair or a table, but she was getting a lot better with her handicap. Six months ago she would have tripped over a chair and knocked a beast's drink into his lap. She was glad those days were virtually over.

"Can I help you?"

The wolf jumped and looked sharply at a young tavernmaid who had appeared at her side as if out of thin air. The otter was a bit shorter than Darrow and wore a very pleasant smile.

Darrow scowled. "If I be needin' yer help, I'll ask fer et, got et?"

The maid drew back in surprise and neatly bobbed her head before scurrying away with a stuttered apology. Darrow snorted and continued on to an empty table. That wosn't nice, Darrow she scolded herself. She wos just tryin' ta be nice. HA! Nice...Darrow didn't believe beasts could really be "nice" without wanting something in return. Sure, she'd believed some of her mentors, but it was hard for other beasts to reach her. She just wasn't a very personable wolf.

Darrow sighed and sat down heavily in a chair close to a brightly lit window. It was probably odd that such a moody figure would find solitude in the light. She brushed aside a curtain and peered out into the world of Emerald Bay, trying to get a feel for the fort.

Another tavernmaid wandered close, but this time Darrow didn't chase her away. Instead, she ordered a drink and some food. Her paw fingered the coins in her pouch causing her to sigh. She didn't have much money left....She'd have to find some job soon or else she was going to have to hunt for her meals. Lovely. At least she hadn't been forced to pay a tax of any sort to actually get into Emerald Bay.

[Rockpaw Steeleye]

Taxes on Emerald Bay were not part of the way business was run. Rockpaw liked to have a good, free port for all those who needed rest to make berth in, and taxes on such silly things as entry and exit would only make them worse. No, the real currency came from hard, honest trading. The old sea dog was averse to making profit off of any superfluous things like simple tariffs and duties. It was one of the reasons the place was starting to flourish the way it was. Right now he was looking for a place to drop down and rest his eyes from the light of the day outside, and the comfortable atmosphere of the tavern was just the right place to go after a long day of running around and barking out orders.

The door to the tavern was manhandled by a rough, scarred paw, shoved open with one powerful flick of an arm, and several sailors and soldiers nearby stood up and saluted to the burly figure that plodded inside with heavy footfalls.

"As you were, gentlebeasts," a deep, gravelly voice said to those assembled, and the order was followed to the letter. Conversation struck up again right where it had left off, tavernmaids began weaving back and forth as though they'd never stopped moving, and drinks were guzzled right after being halted in mid-slurp. Rockpaw looked over it all with satisfaction. They all knew when to stand up, sit down, when to relax, when to stand firm. He knew respect was a mighty thing when it came to command, and he had it over these creatures quite handily.

Without fail, his single, stormy blue eye fell upon the stranger near the window. His rudder brushed over the floor contemplatively. He hadn't seen her here... she was well armed for a simple traveler, and a wolf besides. Hardy, tough creatures wolves were, or so he saw from his few encounters with them. He had fought a few in his day and several were under his command, but it didn't make it any less surprising when one suddenly dropped by for a visit. He shrugged his commander's cloak off and folded it neatly over his arm, and meandered on over near the wolf. He dropped down at a table nearby and kept his eye forward.

"Newcomer, are we?" he asked over his shoulder.

[Darrow Lark]

It just so happened that when Rockpaw approached the door, Darrow had taken a moment to close her good eye and rub it wearily. The creak of floorboards as another beast entered was lost to the commotion of the tavern. When silence followed and chairs shifted for rising beasts, Darrow opened her eye and stared at the fortbeasts in confusion. What were they doing? A deep voice rumbled throughout the room, but with all of the beasts standing, Darrow couldn't see who they were looking at. Not that it mattered to her of course. She cared little about authority, which often landed her in trouble. Her brother, Bowen, could attest to the fact that Darrow rarely bowed her head or submitted when confronted by a beast of power. It was one reason why she had received the worst end of the beating from her mother while Bowen and her twin brother were able to escape.

Darrow flicked her ears back and looked away in frustration. She tried not to think about her brothers and mother if she could help it. That monstrous she-wolf had given Darrow and her siblings up cruelly. Darrow had been only too happy to leave. It was the separation she faced when her brothers were stripped away that had really shredded her soul. Years had passed and she knew she had no hope of ever finding them again. Most likely they were food to the worms, or if they were still alive, they just didn't care about her any longer.

Such bitter thoughts were racing through her head as an otter stepped over to a table close to hers. Darrow's fur bristled and she would have ignored the new occupant had his voice not invaded her thoughts.

"Newcomer, are we?"

Darrow's good eye narrowed while the blind one opened, revealing the milky iris. "Aye. Wot's it tae yuh?" she asked shortly, her voice holding contempt rather respect. The wolf sent the otter a glare then glanced up as the tavernmaid returned to her table. The maid looked shocked to hear such words come out of Darrow's mouth. Tentatively, she placed the plate and the drink on the table then scooted over to Rockpaw.

"Can I get anything for you, Commander?" she asked in a sweet, respectful voice.

Darrow arched an eyebrow and snorted. Great. Of course she would run into one of the fort's military leaders on her first day. Her mood darkened considerably and she took a deep gulp from her drink. The mug hit the table a bit loudly and she began to tear into her meal, stubbornly ignoring Rockpaw. If he knew what was best for him, he would just mind his own business and leave her in peace. Darrow wasn't in the mood to fight, nor was she interested in bowing or apologizing to the Commander. He was probably an upstart...a pampered otter...no...no, she couldn't even create that lie. The missing eye was enough to tell her that he had seen battle in his day but that didn't mean she had to bow at his footpaws. She was her own master.