Aine was what you would call a regular at The Bobbing Head. Ever since the seedy little tavern had been built the Night Elven woman had been warming a seat at least once a week. More often than not she was waiting for the hedonistic privateer that was her daughter but occasionally she came simply for the view (and the pleasure). Today was one of those days.<br/><br/>With nothing on her figurative plate and little more to do than smoke or drink the traveling elf simply pulled up her usual stool at the corner of the bar, quite well making herself at home. While the scantily clad waitresses scurried about the hard wood floors she kept occasionally jeered and cat-called, all between sips of her beer or puffs of her wooden pipe.<br/><br/>She is a handsome woman with a strong jaw line and high, well defined cheeks.The  occasional smile shows a fair amount of fang, more often than not digging into her bottom lip after a particularly saucy flirt or jeer was loosed in the room.  Her hair is a typical snowy white, shaved at the sides of her head down to a fine, short fuzz and the strip down the middle pulled back into a barely-tamed mane decorated with a variety of beads, feathers and other such trinkets. To suit her handsome features and tribal hair style her build was powerful and thick. Taller than most people even just sitting on her stool the elf easily drew the eye and if not for her height easily because of her powerful broad shoulders and stocky , uncharacteristic build. Unlike her appearance however the woman’s dress is rather reserved, consisting of a well fitted white tunic belted at her waist and a pair of old, but well taken care of brown leather pants that clung to her well-defined legs. Aine’s boots were just as practical as her clothing, worn from travel and patched in more than one place they were thick and heavy, almost mirroring their owner perhaps a bit too much.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>