“Me?" The bartender lets out a short laugh that came deep from the gut. By the drek-eating grin he wore and the look in his eyes, Bruce was definitely up to something and that something likely involved another customer.<span style="color: Red"> “You’re pretty, but I tend to like my girls with a little less metal in their face." </span>He gestures to his own somewhat handsome mug to emphasize his point.<span style="color: Red">“And you really couldn't pay me to drink this stuff so it's not what I'd send someone I was keen on." </span>With another boisterous laugh he sets the draft down in front of Anna. The beer itself looked fine despite the bartender's insistence he'd never drink it. It was a rich, hearty black stout that had creamy head that took up nearly a quarter of the glass and even a minute after being poured still showed no signs of waning. If she was adventurous enough to take a sip she'd notice as far as beer went it wasn't half bad. In fact, the rich cream of the head took away most of the bitter bite. That being said, it was certainly an acquired taste.<br/><br/>A few moments after handing her the beer Bruce would clear his throat and smile at the wild-haired changeling.<span style="color: Red"> " The person you ought to be thanking is two seats down on your left. She's giving you a look right now. Dunno if that's your thing or not but she seems alright."</span><br/><br/>With a shrug of his broad shoulders Bruce leaves Anna to her own devices, giving her one last smile before taking another order. If she did choose to look for the person who so graciously sent a drink her way they wouldn't be hard to find. Just like Bruce had said two seats down from her was a woman sipping on her own beer, the same hearty stout as what she'd sent Anna, with her almost golden colored eyes fixed on the changeling. The woman, whoever she was, was an elf for certain with a lithe almost willow-like build and strong facial features that spoke of good genes. Her hair is a shade of brown close to auburn and in free flowing wavy locks that went past her shoulders.  She didn’t appear as wild as the eccentric changeling but she had her own curiosities about her like the set of blue runic tattoos that curled up from the fingers on her left hand terminating as they crept up her neck. Just like everybody else in the bar she was dressed for a night out. Her tank top was close-fitting, emblazoned with the name of a famous elven rock group from Tir na nÒg and her jeans were a dark wash, tight and full of holes deliberately placed for style.<br/><br/>If Anna looked her way the woman would wink, and shoot her a rather confident smile.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>