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ten thousand days in the fire
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cakeThe tables were haphazardly organised. Some had been shoved over, others had fallen apart from old age. It constantly amazed the dark wolf that so much time had passed, that so many sentient creatures had passed by in the years, and yet these things had been untouched by everything but time. The bar was in decent shape, covered in dust. Holding a cloth carefully in his hand, Bane wiped it clean, admiring the shine it left behind. Whoever had worked here had looked after the place.
cakeHe served himself from the working side of the bar, looking out at the restaurant that surrounded him with some curiosity. Here and there he had lit candles, seeing as the light switches had long ago ceased to work. They flickered in the dim light, casting odd shadows on the ceiling and panelled walls. Bane didn't know exactly why he was there, but his answer would come shortly. Or perhaps not at all. Maybe there was no answer. In his hand he now held a glass of whiskey, which he periodically sipped, his mind barely considering the action as he did so. Leaning against the counter, he eyed the shelved and mirrored wall behind him, counting the bottles and simultaneously pondering the ways of the world.
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