The Eagle's Spool is dimly lit, heavy with the scent of aged wood, cigarette smoke, and alcohol. Low-hanging pendant lights cast warm amber pools across scarred tables and worn leather booths. A jukebox in the corner plays faded classic rock at a volume just loud enough to fill the silences. A few patrons are scatted across the tables, booths, and bar stools, overall the air in the bar has a relaxed feeling. Despite the bar being reasonably full at the far end of the bar Rianne sits alone perched on a high stool, her open brown bomber jacket draped over her back hanging off one shoulder. A half-empty glass of whiskey rests in front of her, amber liquid catching the light as she regards it with her single dark green eye. Her left eye remains closed, the burn scar on that side of her face stark against her caramel skin. The wolf tail behind her is limp, pointing to the floor as she yells for the bartender.
"Hey, boss! Just bring the bottle over here, I'm nowhere close to done."
The bartender brings the bottle over and returns to serving the other patrons as Rianne refills her glass.
