Hazel had to stop allowing her mind to wander such distances in the span of so little time, especially when there was so much occuring around her at the present moment. However, as it was nothing of danger to her being, she remained rather oblivious to most of the subtleties of the room. Colin's question was one she was sure to hear often if she made it a habit to enter bars or other alcoholic venues, but that was a habit she hadn't quite taken up in some time. Perhaps that was she reason she'd been downing her shots in the manner she had. And perhaps that was why the curiosity of this establishment had attracted her so mysteriously.<br/><br/>"You'd be surprised by the things I can taste with just a drop," she murmured in quiet reply, at last. Her gaze washed welcomingly over his for a long moment, as if considering correcting her statement to one of less... suggestive connotations, but ultimately abandoning the thought. She merely meant she had extremely well-shaped senses. Leaning across the bar from her seat, she pulled a small foldable wallet from her overcoat pocket and slipped a few twenties near her emptied bottle behind the counter. Her figure stretched over the edge of the countertop, the hem of her maroon dress slipping up over her thighs to reveal more pale freckled flesh before she retook her seat. A tiny smile quirked the corner of her lips as she listened to those at the bar talk back and forth, the somewhat-easy banter between them easing her mind slowly. Until Errol's voice caught her full focus. It was somewhat disarming, what her brain chose to zone in on at times.<br/><i><br/>
Usually see lots of vampires and shapeshifters.</i>That was a statement that stuck with Hazel. Were they the most common supernatural beings that were comfortable in the everyday world, then? Or were they genuinely the most common? Was it because of the ease of creation for beings such as themselves? Vampires were most commonly known to be created by bites, and though shapeshifters were the exact opposite and known to be born rather than bitten, it wasn't an entirely unheard-of concept that some shapeshifter lineages<i> were</i>transfered through bites. Hazel herself was one of the born shapeshifters. However, there were legends her mother had told her when she was little of them having the power of the Bite in ancient times. Child Hazel, and current Hazel, had been fascinated.<br/><br/>Once again, the young woman lost a few moments of conversation trapped within her own mind. She glanced up from her empty shot glasses, where her fingers had been meandering and dancing over the damp rims, just as Errol finally took her leave from the room. She seemed to be chased out by Chance's intimidating aura as the redhead watched, head tilted ever-so-slightly. Even at the woman's reminder for anything, Hazel remained quiet, not wanting to ask her for anything and seem like a bother. The shapeshifter would find food in the morning. The prospect of the bar-owner possibly having work available, though, was a thought she couldn't pass up. Chance's reminder of the openings, even though it was very clearly not directed at her, was something to ponder over. Still, as Hazel's mind ventured onwards, her eyes seemed to linger on the dancing forms of Chance and Brock. If someone was observant enough, they might've caught the bare, miniscule hint of jealousy in her gaze. Not for either one involved, but rather the ease with which they acquired the closeness. Chance's confidence was evident in the way she sauntered into step with him, Brock's confidence maybe a little more alcohol than actual courage, but it was endearing nonetheless, the way they moved in a steady unison to the song that reverberated from the abandoned phone.<br/><br/>Somewhere in the middle of their dance, Hazel had stood and gathered her shot glasses to take to the sink behind her counter, her hands moving through the motions of washing them without a second thought. She was sure, though, that her eyes hadn't dared to venture far from their tangoing figures. By the time they'd finished, she was stock still behind the sink, blinking at them with an obvious air of admiration and surprise. "I feel almost as if I should pay for the show," she murmured at last. Stepping back from the sink, she glanced around for a hand towel to dry her hands.