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After a hearty supper, Thistle sat back in her chair. She and Peony had maintained light conversation throughout the meal, and while the lass's enduring cheerfulness was slightly irritating, it was also contagious. The combination of good food and conversation had improved her mood considerably so that she had almost forgotten about the two insolent lads who had run into her and waved to her from atop the furniture respectively.
Noticing the darkened sky through the windows, Thistle realized the day was drawing to a close and that she had best be getting home. "It was nice chatting with you, Peony, and thank you for your company. However, I'd best be getting on home, as it's getting rather late. You're from around here, you said? Perhaps I'll be seeing you around."
"Yes, perhaps," Peony answered with a smile. "Good night, then."
"Good night, lass." With that Thistle levered herself to her feet and, picking up her cane, thumped her way towards the door. On her way she passed some people carrying a tall man into the kitchen, and she hmph'ed. "Too much ale, no doubt," she muttered to herself. Men who drank more ale than they could take were another one of the many things she could not stand.
She pushed through the door, leaving the Inn behind for the night. "A tad too chilly," she murmured absently. Never happy without something to complain about, that was her way. "And not even the moon shines to light the way..."
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