Post by Lady on Sept 17, 2019 5:18:25 GMT
(January 25th. Open thread with Lady, who is on the hunt for some answers. All are welcome.)
The air in the pub was thick with the scent of ale, and the warm from the immense stone hearth. A great symphony of voices mixed with an orchestra of silver and glassware from the crowd that occupied the popular tavern. It was a small establishment, purposefully kept local and out of the way, its wood paneled walls and heavy ceiling beams not at all unfamiliar to the cocker spaniel that trotted in through the open door. Her head held particularly low as she skirted along the outer perimeter, stopping to raise her head and look back at the doors. It was still a strange feeling to be allowed to roam wherever she so desired, and the motherly canine was slowly becoming accustomed to the new climates that dictated her behavior. She raised a forepaw in the air, and scanned the crowd gathered. Her long lush ears rolling along her shoulders to each side of the head.
Lady had been in this particular establishment once before, and it seemed popular enough to be the perfect place to perhaps find a few answers. There were....rumors...floating around. A supply run for the Suns had fallen into trouble, and while that news in itself was worrisome what sent the cocker into mother-mode was that among those who traveled on that particular run was said to be a golden furred canine. She dropped the forepaw and cocked her mouth. She wanted to talk to the Tramp, speak about things together as they usually did. However, their respective responsibilities with the army wouldn't allow that. At least, not at the moment.
Padding up to the bar, she hopped up onto her hind legs, wobbling slightly as she did so. She raised her chin and peeked over the edge, just her eyes and nose looking across the polished bar-top. The elegant canine wrinkled her nose and gave her head a little shake. Her brass tag and light blue collar jingling as she did so. She could hop onto one of the wooden stools. However, Lady wasn't a drinker of any sort, and this was not the time to experiment. (Besides, she had already had a taste of Jim Dear's bourbon when she was much younger. A mistake that saw both her master chastised by his wife, and her feeling sick for a whole afternoon.) The spaniel quickly backed away, and dropped down to all fours before she turned around and gracefully cantered over to the fireplace. She held her head high, tail erect and her moves were graceful and timed. Her mahogany furred ears fluttering in time to each step. Not all betraying the concern that filled her furry bosom.
She wasn't even sure where to start asking, or what to even ask. It wouldn't be wise to just...start asking about her own army's movements or what people knew. Especially as she had nothing but a rumor to go on. If it was true, surely the Enchanted Sun's leadership would announce it. Stopping in front of the fireplace, the warm glow of the flames casting shades of orange and gold across her already tan furred body, Lady dropped down to her haunches on a threadbare carpet. Her docked tail quivering against the curves of her canine backside as it was planted into the threads.
Perhaps...a good place to start would be a drink. Non-alcoholic preferably.