Distraction In The Alehouse

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In The Land Of The Damned…

Donovan settled on a sturdy wooden bench near a hearth in the alehouse, with Lothar and Acheron as his companions for the night. The crackling fire bathed them in a comforting heat as they shrugged off their cloaks and took their seats.

"This is the men's life," Acheron rubbed his hands together with gusto, eager to warm them by the flames.

The atmosphere of the alehouse was alive with the gentle hum of conversation, punctuated by occasional burst of laughter and the clinking of wooden spoons against earthenware bowls. To avoid drawing undue attention, given the presence of their Alpha, they had selected a secluded table tucked behind one of the heavy curtains.

"We come here to down our sorrows," Lothar reclined in his seat as he explained to Donovan. "And you my friend, you are in need of some of that ale to just let it out. Before you burden us with the details, that is."