Timestamp: 32nd of Spring
Coonie tried to wedge her way into the tightly packed tavern. All she wanted was one beer! When she had asked a passerby for the nearest bar, she hadn't known he had given her the most popular place in town, but apparently he had. The Kelp Bar was lively and crowded. In one section, a mob of sailors laughed and cheered rowdily, no doubt celebrating one thing or another. They lifted their glasses as Coonie passed, but she simply nodded. She didn't necessarily feel like partying tonight.
In a second corner, there were several women, hovering over one or two men. One woman whispered something that made the men laugh. As she passed by, they offered her cheap smiles that could only be described as nauseating. The ladies' low cut gowns had Coonie steering clear of them as well. No, she wasn't quite into that either. Tonight, all she wanted was to erase that homesick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
In the center of the room, chairs were being pushed aside to make room for eager dancers. A noisy song started up from somewhere and others joined in. The already distraught cleaning boy began to wave his arms, but no one listened. Seizing the opportunity to slip through the chaotic crowd, Coonie pushed her way up front. On her way, she passed a few children- maybe 12 or 13 years old- who appeared to be the cleaning boy's next victims. Thankful that the same fate had not fallen upon her, she tried to squirm her way behind them. Coonie sucked in her stomach, clenched her fists, and tried to squeeze herself through the small gap. Instead, her tightly knotted fists hit a big, burly drunk square in the chest.
He stumbled to the side before looking down at her. His eyes were blurry, but not with pain or kindness, as a person would suspect from a stranger. No, they were fogged over by anger and pride. When mixed with alcohol, this concoction became much like vinegar and baking soda- it exploded.
The man roared, but in the cheer of the place, the sound was lost. In a single, swift movement, he swiped the girl off her feet. This was a considerable feat considering her size, and had the situation not been so bleak, Coonie might have admired the strength of such a man. More like a giant. Coonie thought to herself. The giant drunk left her no time to admire his strength before dragging her out into the street. Not one to cower, Coonie fought her way free of his clutches and stood, staring him straight in the eye. A challenge sat ready in her eyes, and a sharp retort ready on her tongue. Most importantly, her hands travelled slowly toward her ever present cutlass. If she was going down, she was bringing Giant with her.