|
So many people entering. Clyryan tapped out an erratic-sounding rhythm on the rim of her glass before standing up on her seat and meticulously rolling up her long sleeves. She bent down to take the second last sip of her ale before straightening up and singing loud and clear to no one in particular: "Green Dragon, Green Dragon, a toast I propose, to all ye fair maidens with a gentleman's nose."
Raucous laughter sounded out from a few corners as Clyryan drained her glass along with a few before sitting back down and leaning against the wall, reveling in her paradoxical toast and the humor that followed. Tomorrow she might think up another bit of prose, as per her custom. They allowed her this small eccentric pleasure, as it usually provided for a bit of fun.
|