...tap...tap...tap...

The rain outside poured down in buckets, some droplets sprinkling onto the taverns window's, that chased down one another like two rabbits running down along grassy hills — and with the rain — came the wind, that howled loudly outside, bringing inside a chilly breeze.

. . .

A scoff escaped Simon's lips at the fourth rush of cold wind hitting the back of his neck, being a stark contrast to the warm cup of black tea sitting in front of him.

“Freezin' yor ass off, eh?"

Cackled Soap, a black Werewolf, at his Wraith friend, the same smirk that the Lieutenant's gotten used to painting again over the Scottishman's features before taking a long sip out of his large pint of beer.

Just as Simon was about to shoot a cold glance in the werewolf's direction, the tavern's doors crashed open, a large figure storming in drenching wet from the weather's shenanigans — their wide antlers adding in to the mysterious person's charm — before the local's light finally shined over the figure's face revealing...{{user}}, a red deer faun.

Shit.

The Lieutenant's heart throbbed at the sight of the man, a light pink blush tinging his cheeks under the skull he wore.

Just as you made your way towards the bar stool — he couldn't help but notice the way your drenched clothes clinged to you like a second skin, your messed-up damp hair, your..everything — before he quickly looked away with a grumble, realizing his staring, taking instead a sip of his tea.

You were too attractive for his own sake.

“Took a shower, {{user}}?”

The Wraith half-heartedly joked, glancing over at you for a moment, while continuing to drink his warm beverage.