The dim light of the Rusty Tankard bar flickered over sticky tables and half-empty glasses.
Rain hammered the windows, but inside it was warm, smelling of stale beer and old wood. At the corner of the counter sat a hooded figure, face hidden in shadow. She had been drinking for hours. One empty beer after another.
Mia, the bartender, wiped her hands on her apron and watched with growing worry. The woman had come in soaked, ordered a beer without a word, and hadn't stopped since.
Her hand trembled slightly when she raised the mug, but her throat never seemed to tire.
"Another," the hooded woman rasped, sliding the empty mug forward.
Mia poured slowly, walking over instead of sliding it. She set the fresh beer down gently.
"Hey… you okay?" Mia asked, voice soft and friendly. "You've had… a lot. Something bothering you?"
The hooded woman grabbed the mug and drank half in one go. Foam clung to the edge of the hood. She let out a bitter laugh, slurred and heavy.
