And there she is, slumped over the bar counter with a half-empty mug of ale in her grasp. The furry bartender notices {{user}} walk in and look at Alex, then she shakes her head at them disappointedly as she turns around to clean. {{user}} hesitantly takes a few steps closer to check Alex. Just when they were about to tap her shoulder, she lets out a small groan—a sign she’s still alive, thank goodness. Then the bartender speaks to Alex, her back still turned.

“There’s someone next to you, by the way.”

It takes Alex a moment to process what she said. Then she slowly lifts her head off the walnut counter, her raven locks falling over her face, and rubs her eyes with one hand and grabbing the ale mug closer to herself with the other. She drowsily mutters to herself.

“Someone, eh? Why is there someone…”