Snippet #2558579

For a while, Sverre simply gazed out in the distance, eyes fixed on where he last saw the human as she ran away and past the edge of naked trees into the forest. She truly was a perfect image of his long since deceased friend. It was unnerving to say the least, and her actions further confused the demon. She had known his name somehow, though he was sure they hadn't met before. He'd remember if he'd met a woman such as her. His brows furrowed in frustration as he fought the memories and melancholy that threatened to invade his subconscious. His friend was dead, and no look alike was going to change that!

Letting out an annoyed huff, Sverre finally lowered his sword, slipping it into the sheath with a soft hiss and click of metal. Lingering here wouldn't do him any good, and his appetite was gone for the time being. Allowing himself one last lingering glance at the line of trees at the forest's edge, Sverre finally turned away as a fresh sprinkling of snow began to make a sheet over the land. He needed a good ale after all of this. Maybe a lovely lady to help take his mind off of things.

-----
Sverre let out a sigh as he reached a lively village by nightfall, hesitating but a second before letting his feet take him inside the boundaries of the settlement. It was bustling with activity even at a late hour, the local inn boasting the highest amount of activity. Patrons came and went, some for a drink, others for lodging. Some were tossed out, their angry protests ignored.

While Sverre was perfectly capable of housing himself in the wilderness and avoiding humans, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed a warm bed, a good drink, and occasional company. Thus, he decided to indulge in a little comfort for the time being. Entering the inn, he swiftly walked up to the bar and wasted no time in acquiring a large mug of choice ale. Sipping it, he settled himself to relax when a commotion caught his attention. A certain patron had the inn's young waitress by the wrist, obviously harassing the uninterested young woman. Sverre sighed at the interruption of his alchohol, wondering why so many men had no manners.

"C'mon sweetie, what time you off? You don't wanna go home all alone do ya? Let me show you a good time." pressed the male, who smelled like a pipe combined with what Sverre could tell was him getting sick on ale over himself. Gross.

"That's no way to treat a lass now is it? Keep your meaty paws to yourself and learn some manners you buffoon." Sverre drawled, standing up and shoving himself into the situation, stabbing the table with a dagger. The girl pulled away with a gasp, scurrying backwards behind the strong looking man gratefully.

The patron however was scowling in anger, face going red at the insult as much as from the ale. "Mind yer own business! The hell are you huh pretty boy? Get lost before I make you regret comin in here."

"Right. Make me regret coming in here. Honestly, you're as stupid as you look. Go back to your ale and pass out in it why don't you?"

The man stood, raising a fist and letting out a indignant shout. "I'mma clobber you senseless!" He lunged at Sverre, only to fall with a thud on the ground. Blood pooled from a now-broken nose from a well aimed punch.

"Make sure you can follow through before picking a fight." retorted the demon. Shoving the now cursing and howling drunkard with his boot, Sverre returned to his ale, rolling his eyes.
--------------

Dirge chugged his third mug of the evening, beady eyes scanning the tavern for the girl who had gotten away from him several days ago when a lone figure by the hearth caught his eye. HE hadn't seen her around before, but she was definitely worth looking at. Strong features perhaps, but her body was well toned. Forgetting his earlier objective, he made his way towards the table with the dark-haired woman.

"Shame to drink all alone ain't it miss? Here, let me join ya, I'll be sure to show you a good time..."

"I thought I'd seen the last of your stupid face around here." Came a familiar drawl, Sverre plopping his hand on Eilin's shoulder as he glared in disgust at Dirge, the man whose nose he'd broken not three days prior.

Dirge was practically purple in rage. Humiliation, combined with being interrupted and insilted a second time added to his inner fear of the man as he fumed. "The hell you want this time?" he tried, only for Sverre to glare at him.

"Picking on my lady friend are you? Want me to break something else?" hissed the demon, his comment only further agitating the patron. Eyes bugging out, the scoundrel clenched and unclenched his fists.