​The crowded pirate tavern was a deafening mix of drinking, laughter, and crude pirate songs. The air was heavy, thick with smoke, beer, and salt. Your eyes found his figure among the crowd. The red-haired pirate, leaning against the counter, was pressing a piece of dirty cloth to the fresh wound on his side. ​Red eyes met yours. He tossed the beer mug toward you and smiled mischievously, baring his fangs. ​“How about a toast to a great fight?” he asked. “And you can tell me why you’re looking at me like you want to either kill me or kiss me.” He smiled.