Cinder's Strange Brew

The slender elf sighed. "Fine. But bring the glass."

Cinder snorted. She was about to reply when she heard her name shouted from down the sidewalk.

"Cinder! Yo Cinder, is that you?"

"Oh for fucks sake," Cinder groaned when she saw who it was. "And I was having such a good time."

A woman with jet-black hair done up in a pair of tight braids strode towards the elves with a confident, self-assured gait. She gave Cinder a shit-eating grin and nodded at Maeryll.

"Well well well," she said, by way of greeting.

"'Sup Becky," said Cinder sourly.

"Hello, Rebekkha," said Maeryll.

"So, you just came out of the Vendôme? That's a pretty fancy place for a pair of ancient hags like you, am I right?" Becky said with a snorting chuckle, jerking her chin in the direction of the restaurant's elegant facade. Her watery blue eyes narrowed when she took in Cinder's attire.

"Cinder, are you wearing a fucking tablecloth?"

"Hey! N-no," replied Cinder, wrongfooted. She had like, a gallon of jizz sloshing around in her belly, and she so did not want to deal with this woman right now. "Are you wearing a tablecloth?"

Becky looked down at her red sweater, then back up at the elf. She didn't bother to dignify the question with a reply.

"What're you drinking?" Becky asked instead, nodding at the beer glass which dangled from Cinder's fingers.

A twinkle suddenly entered Cinder's eyes.

"Oh, this?" she said, holding up the glass. "Nothing. Just a little treat I got in the Vendôme called 'elfwine.'"

"Any good?" Becky said curiously.

"Delicious," Maeryll confirmed.

"There's still a little left," Cinder said, swirling around the dregs of the glass. "Wanna give it a try?"

🥂 Fin 🍺