Tasha seems to just register what the newcomer said. "There is no way me and that draconian are together, thank you very much," she growls.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Shima smiled. "You would actually make a cute couple. A bit strange, but still cute." He looked over to the Draconian. "Oh...wauw. A real Draconian ? Hell, I didn't think that any of you were left. At least not in this universe." He offered the transparent bottle to him. "Want a drink ? I remember that your kind really likes diamond ale." Spoiler
Tasha snarls something in Wolf under her breath, giving up on getting people to let go of the whole 'couple' thing.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Keep bursts through the Tavern door and in a high pitched squeal yells, "Where's the juice?! ...I haven't had a drink to quench my thirst in ages!" *annoys everyone with her incessant coughing* "Hurry up please!" *cough cough*
You can't blame the writer for what the characters say. — Truman Capote
"Thanks for the juice, @AlexOfLight!" she exclaimed slamming her hand down to grab the glass and gulping the sweet nectar of hydration.
"@SarukaTheHuman, well we'll see what we can do for that but for now... what would you like to drink? We have the largest variety of milks and juices!"
You can't blame the writer for what the characters say. — Truman Capote
A kid - maybe 19 - walks in. He has shoulder-length black hair with ebon eyes to match, and pale skin like he's never seen the sun. He wears a white button-up shirt under a jet vest and tie, with dark slacks and dress shoes. The golden chain of a pocket watch can be seen extending from his pocket.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
'Hush, hush!' I whispered; 'people can have many cousins and of all sorts, Miss Cathy, without being any the worse for it; only they needn't keep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad. — Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights
