Post by Scarlet on Mar 17, 2009 14:15:06 GMT -5
Natasha walked along the edge of snow covered street, nimbly side-stepping the muddy patches. Even for her status as pirate, she had a neat and clean appearance as always. She had just bought a new winter coat, for her usual attire did not do its best to keep her warm in this cold time of year. She had given her old coat to one of her crew members, since it had been torn and dirtied from last year. She slid her paws into the silk lined pockets of her blue twill coat, thankful for the warmth her paws received. Her breath caused little patches of fog before her snout, it was so cold. And of course she was up north, so it was colder here than it would be down at the green isles. In fact, the green isles should be just slightly cool, the sun still beating down on the vermin that resided there. Natasha liked the cold weather, since she had grown up and accustomed to it. The rest of her crew held a grudge against her for dragging them up here when they would much rather be farther down south. Natasha had payed them no mind; Since she was Captain, it was her decision as to where they would sail.
Seeing a fairly nice looking tavern, if there was such a thing, Natasha opened the thick oak door and stepped in. The tavern was called "Coin de chats" or " Cats Corner". No doubt this tavern was going to be run by wildcats, a species which Natasha enjoyed being around. They were far more sophisticated than your average water rat and rather pleasant to be around. Though Natasha has more than once run into the annoying ones who think that they are so much better than everyone else and was forced to leave them with a broken pride. The tavern smelled pleasantly of the rich smell of roasting pheasant and the spicy scent of warm rum. It was so warm inside, Natasha had no need of her new coat anymore and took it off. Underneath she wore a white blouse and brown trousers, belted with a dagger and pistol. She kept a few spare coins in the pocket of her trousers. She didn't like to carry too much money around when she went about the town, in the case she might be pick-pocketed.
Throwing her coat over her arm, she sat at the bar and ordered a shot of rum. The spicy smell had enticed her into buying some. The bartender was, quite expectedly, a wildcat, his fur spotted with the usual marks of his species. As he reached beneath the counter and retrieved a shot glass, Natasha took stock of her surroundings. As she thought, most of the customers here were wildcats, obviously feeling this was their own little joint. There were few foxes and wolves and even fewer rats and weasels. In fact, there was only one other weasel besides herself. He was obviously a pirate from the looks of him and he seemed to acknowledge the fact that they were the only two weasels in the room. He boldly winked at her and Natasha sniffed disdainfully and glanced away. The bartender had filled her glass and was putting away the bottle of rum when Natasha said " Leave it. I may want to have a few more after this. Save yourself the trouble of putting it away more than once." The bartender didn't say anything in response, but obediently left the bottle on the counter next to her glass.
Taking the shot glass, Natasha drank it in one gulp. The burning sensation in her throat and on her tongue was rather pleasant, if a bit overwhelming. If anything Natasha liked a good few shots of rum on a cold winters day to warm her up. In fact, she often drank with the crew, though restrained herself from shouting and singing raucously as they often did. Her crew thought her prissy at first, but then realized that she was just more sophisticated in some matters than they, though she could still throw back drinks like the rest of them. They quickly grew to respect her, but at the same time not treat her like she wasn't just as tough like they.
Natasha began pouring her next shot.
Seeing a fairly nice looking tavern, if there was such a thing, Natasha opened the thick oak door and stepped in. The tavern was called "Coin de chats" or " Cats Corner". No doubt this tavern was going to be run by wildcats, a species which Natasha enjoyed being around. They were far more sophisticated than your average water rat and rather pleasant to be around. Though Natasha has more than once run into the annoying ones who think that they are so much better than everyone else and was forced to leave them with a broken pride. The tavern smelled pleasantly of the rich smell of roasting pheasant and the spicy scent of warm rum. It was so warm inside, Natasha had no need of her new coat anymore and took it off. Underneath she wore a white blouse and brown trousers, belted with a dagger and pistol. She kept a few spare coins in the pocket of her trousers. She didn't like to carry too much money around when she went about the town, in the case she might be pick-pocketed.
Throwing her coat over her arm, she sat at the bar and ordered a shot of rum. The spicy smell had enticed her into buying some. The bartender was, quite expectedly, a wildcat, his fur spotted with the usual marks of his species. As he reached beneath the counter and retrieved a shot glass, Natasha took stock of her surroundings. As she thought, most of the customers here were wildcats, obviously feeling this was their own little joint. There were few foxes and wolves and even fewer rats and weasels. In fact, there was only one other weasel besides herself. He was obviously a pirate from the looks of him and he seemed to acknowledge the fact that they were the only two weasels in the room. He boldly winked at her and Natasha sniffed disdainfully and glanced away. The bartender had filled her glass and was putting away the bottle of rum when Natasha said " Leave it. I may want to have a few more after this. Save yourself the trouble of putting it away more than once." The bartender didn't say anything in response, but obediently left the bottle on the counter next to her glass.
Taking the shot glass, Natasha drank it in one gulp. The burning sensation in her throat and on her tongue was rather pleasant, if a bit overwhelming. If anything Natasha liked a good few shots of rum on a cold winters day to warm her up. In fact, she often drank with the crew, though restrained herself from shouting and singing raucously as they often did. Her crew thought her prissy at first, but then realized that she was just more sophisticated in some matters than they, though she could still throw back drinks like the rest of them. They quickly grew to respect her, but at the same time not treat her like she wasn't just as tough like they.
Natasha began pouring her next shot.
