"Burlake's... burlake's... what the feg kinda name is that?" A blue-furred, ashen-suited creature mumbled to himself, trying to peer over the scant crowd, annoying enough to block a few of the establishment names. "Glow Worm Ltd. The Sonic Tonic? Consummate... ew." He deflates, before spotting a hole-in-the-hull front with his goal gleaming overhead. Rushing towards it, he watches in despair as a chain gate lowers, and a diminutive leopard glares through. "Ei, we're closed yeah?"
Dour and cross, the pale avian sat in the rearmost booth of a dive of which he knew no name. All he knew was that the bartender didn't give him the side-eye and move his hand underneath the bar, searching for some hidden weapon or a call for trouble. Occupants, less gracious but more than willing to let Guy be as long as it meant that their activities went unmolested.
As for the gryphon, he took a swig of his rum. Setting it on the table and watching a sprig of blood sink down through the drink, a deep red amongst amber. The grey jumpsuit freshly cleaned, was a stark contrast to the blood-matted gryphon that wore it. He sunk into his seat, sighing as his gazed danced around the dimly lit bar.
