Four weeks. She had been trapped in this damn outpost for the past four weeks. Not that she remembered much of the past four weeks, that is. Most of it had spent in a blur of passing in and out of drinking and blacking out. It was so bad that she had nearly drank the outpost bar dry. A few more days, and she'd have to move on to the cheap shit that tasted like piss compared to whiskey. She brought the bottle up, drinking down several burning gulps before bringing the bottle down. A few drops of whiskey fell from her lips before she whipped them down, her cheeks finally growing flushed once more. Intention on leaning down and taking a nap on the counter, she leaned forward and rested her forearms on the counter. At that moment, howevever, to her annoyance, someone walked up to her. She sighed and turned over in her stool to face them, her eyes narrowing

"Looking for trouble?"