Author:
The Keep
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Date Posted: 17:48:02 01/15/02 Tue
**The tenuous russet squirrel leans her elbows on the smooth, dark countertop of the sleek bar and heaves a histrionic, groan like sigh. She wears various silks of deep red and soft dove grey, all tied neatly at the waist with a fluid sash of ebony. With a jaded expression she looks out into the empty lounge of the Black Lilly Inn, with dark ochre eyes that reflect the lonely fire crackling in the hearth. When or, indeed, if the Inn attracted any beasts, this squirrel maiden would be working serving up the drinks, instead of watching the dust fall from the deck as another beast sweeps it up. This is Kael.
A second, shorter squirrel works on the small deck, being watched by Kael, sweeping the floor with a large, dry broom. Her long, sleeveless robe of light amber also sweeps the floor, being tread on constantly by her clumsy footpaws. A golden torque, studded with a lustrous tourmaline gem, encircles her neck. The broad-shouldered female wears a kind smile even as she toils at her task, and she hums a song from her youth. Her plush pelt is a charcoal shade of grey, lighter down her back and her voluminous tail. She is Kael's sister, the emerald-eyed Rhine.
A sable sits on a large bar stool, staring with blackened indigo eyes into the depths of a coral mug brimming with pale cordial. The cloak he cherishes, a regal red thing, is piled at his footpaws, unneeded in the warm Inn. His moss-green breeches and natural linen vest look too large on even his brawny body, but the two-handed sword that hangs from a steel ring on a cross belt between his shoulders looks like it was made for his paw only. His fur is a deep, nicely mottled hawk-grey. The sable's name is Malachite, he works to tend the bar and keep customers in line.
With little sound, a jackal paws her way to the lounge, immerging from the hall of accommodations for board. In her slight, tawny, yellow-sheened paws she holds a large volume of some written lore, having finished making the rooms just so and ready to relax by the inviting fire. The large-eared beast's garb is spotless and, although plain, somewhat more elegant than those of her three companions. She wears a tunica, of simple corn-silk yellow, and an imperial purple shawl of the thinnest, spidery material. Her eyes are a very grey shade of violet, warm and full of life. The jackal slumps down into the longest couch. This is Laurel.**
And these are The Keep.
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