Starr Sinali was currently walking down a street, looking as though she'd just been in a bad fight.  She didn't have many visible cuts and bruises, but she walked gingerly.  The full moon was just last night, and she wasn't feeling up to par this evening.  She wasn't exactly sure where she was going, but wherever she ended up would serve alcohol.  Painkillers did nothing for the pain of a night in wolf-form, but a shot of whiskey seemed to help.<br/><br/>A few minutes later, Starr noticed a neon sign up ahead.  It was a quiet pub.  She looked in the window, and didn't see many people sitting around inside.<br/><br/><em>Good,</em>she thought,<em>because I can't handle a lot of noise and lame pick-up lines tonight.</em><br/><br/>She pulled the door open and stepped inside, sitting on a stool at the emptiest spot at the bar.  "Hit me with your best shot, bud," she said, shrugging her coat off her shoulders and laying it across her lap.<br/><br/>The barman poured her a shot of whiskey and walked away.  She assumed he thought she just wanted to wallow in her own troubles this evening.  He wasn't completely correct.  She didn't want to talk to him.  She didn't want to talk to many people, but she wouldn't say no to conversation from the right person.