Mekoa, with her head tilted questioningly, strode quietly after the strange wolf-man. Stepping into the bar, she drew more attention than she currently wanted and wondered at the amount of people inside. All the houses in the area were destroyed and without a soul able to survive for more than a month. Apparently, the soon-to-be-drunken idiots thought that she was deaf.<br/><br/>"Tha' on' dere don' need all dem corsets ta look good."<br/><br/>"I thought there were no good ones here. Guess I'm wrong."<br/><br/>"Is she 'ere ta work?"<br/><br/>"She does better than this ale."<br/><br/>Feeling her mouth twitch into a mocking smile, she made her way up to the bar. The bartender did a double take before dusting the invisible grime off of his apron. He smiled widely at her.<br/><br/>"Evenin' Miss, wha' cun I do fer ya?" he asked, his voice slightly slurred from the common dialect.<br/><br/>"Just a glass of wine. Lady's Glove '38 if you have it."