Systole
First Post
Daylily sits dejectedly at the bar, idly spinning one of the three empty bottles of cheap, mind-numbing liquor on the counter in front of him. "Stupids toad," he mumbles. He sighs. "I ams too long time in the city, I think. Nots even able to findings the toad after the runnings away? Fah!" He pounds on the counter with his fist. "I ams a hunter! To screw with this city!"
He stands up without a trace of inebriation and looks at the door to the back room. "Another of the bottle of the rotgut, for final drinkings with friend Elder Storyteller."
Bottle in hand, he walks into the back room.
He stands up without a trace of inebriation and looks at the door to the back room. "Another of the bottle of the rotgut, for final drinkings with friend Elder Storyteller."
Bottle in hand, he walks into the back room.