A girl sits quietly in the absurdly loud tavern. She questions why her cup was empty though, rather than the ruckus behind her. Not a man dared to look her in the eyes, as she held some type of unhappiness and almost... unholiness in them. She grunts as something bumps into her and she slams her cup down, glaring toward the large group of men shouting and slurring their every sentence. Have they no dignity?
What is she thinking? They must have won a battle, maybe. It was unlikely. Maybe they were just the drunks of the town, and she just happened to stumble upon them during a night she couldn't bear to deal with idiots. "Oi! Pretty one!" A red-bearded man points to her and grins wolfishly, one of his canines missing from his rotting gums. She flairs her nostrils at the horrific stench of his breath and clothing as he pushes his face into hers, "I've not seen you before, deary! Where did you scurry your little arse from?" He asks loudly, nearly filling every corner with his rough voice. "My home has nothing to do with you." She sputters and he chuckles a bit, showing his sudden irritation; however, he tries his very best to keep from being aggressive. "It could have something to do with me. You aren't married, by the looks of it. Would you want to get hitched?" He smirks at her and she scoffs in disgust, standing and shoving past him to ask for another drink.
"Don't be such a prude!" He shouts at me and stumbles forward, diving behind her and wrapping an arm around her neck. She stares blankly at the tavern owner as he slowly pours her drink, a clear apologetic frown sitting silently on his face. "You've got red hair! You're obviously from my tribe!"
"No, I am from your kind - my tribe would've taken a hot blade to your balls for how you're acting." She grumbles and sets her chin against her knuckles as she takes a long swig of her ale, "What a cunt, Gregor! Forget about her." The man sighs. "Fine! Keep all your obvious happiness to yourself!" He rolls his eyes and walks away from her, gathering with his friends to mess around and enjoy the rest of their night.
Every now and then, he'd check to see if she was still there. He didn't know why, but something bothered him about her. It was a constantly jabbing in his side. He flashes a smile to one of his friends as they smack his shoulder roughly, but he brings his attention back to see her.
She was turned around in her seat, looking around at the people sitting in the tavern. But he notices she was mostly staring at the tavern owner and his wife, who had been talking for a while just behind the counter.
She truly must be the loneliest one, he thought.
