Snippet #1867593

Cherry

Cherry's long hair stretched down her back, almost touching the wooden bar stool that she sat on. Hey eyes scanned the wall of bounties, her ears muffled from the loud cheering all around her. She took a drink from her mug, scanning, scanning. Numbers, age, weight, numbers, age, weight. The key was to find the weakest, youngest Ladren with the least fight and the highest bounty, but today's market faced a humble quantity. Biting her iron ring between her teeth, Cherry set the sweet liquid down, and pointed to the best deal she could see. "24." She ordered to the brewery man behind the table. The husky man quickly snapped the paper from the wall behind him, and brought it down with a thump on the table in front of Cherry. She quickly folded the bounty and slipped it into her satchel.

Taking another drink from her mug, she crossed her long legs under the bar table. The sound of clinging metal, and an uproarious crowd, gave way that the fight had begun.

"Damn, girl. Why so serious?" The voice came from her side. She slowly took another drink from her mug, and set the almost-empty cup down. She turned, legs still crossed in an elegant, yet intimidating manner. The bartender quickly replaced her mug with a full one, as she eyed the thin man from head to toe. He seemed bland. Like every other wanna-be rebel in the kingdom. However, she was intrigued by the scar above his eye. She had seen the scar before. Maybe she had passed by the boy before, or met him long ago. His existence, how ever, was none of her business. If it wasn't for the scar, she probably would have gotten up, and walked away to find her bounty. Instead, she leaned forward with her mug in her lap, curious of the boy's intent.

"It's pathetic, isn't it?" She brought the mug to her lips and sipped the sweet alcoholic beverage once again. The taste lightened her mood, and extracted more curiosity.

"They find it so entertaining. Watching things die. If they, themselves had killed, they'd realize it's quite a redundant source of enjoyment." She smirked wryly, continuing before the boy could reply. "But not you, oh you've killed before." She wasn't quite drunk, but her words carried on in an unnecessarily stretched and melancholy manner, almost slurred, but not quite.

"So what is it you want, kid?"