(open)This is home

WARNING FOR SWEARING:

Carlos Aurelio

The solitary wolf had been in this "kingdom" for now one year, feeling like home already. But a home with the freedom that thief life gave, no rules to follow, not having the obligation to do as an old man like a king desired. He always had the philosophy of him being his own ruler, his own boss and those who dared to order him around would be beaten. Beaten as only he did, ruthlessly and without a damn crap with producing a lethal wound. This was the real world, the world of those who didn't abide by the morals everyone else did in this stupid kingdom. And for Carlos this was the life he wanted, the life he was raised into, and nothing of the "correct" or honorific side interested him. Fuck them all.

The night was arriving at the coats as the grey-coated male made his way to the tavern, to a place he could do whatever he wanted. A place for wolves like him, wolves that wouldn't be soft cunts like those from the college or whatever.

His posture was confident as he never felt low around others, feeling the opposite. Being proud of who he was, a free man. As he entered the establishment he sat on a fur ready to have his ration of wine or something to relax his muscles after a long day of doing his stuff, stuff sometimes questionable. But why did it matter? Not everyone had their ass on a golden throne, nor everyone could be paid without doing shit like the royals and all of their shitty place. And thus he did what he could to survive and have benefited from stealing or using other's situations to his own advantage.

@name mcname @name mcname

template © bean

So far, the night was quiet. Monarch was several shifts into this new job and still learning. He realized he'd gotten himself into quite a different kind of place when he'd discovered the tavern, but already he liked it for some inexplicable reason. Maybe because it was so against everything he had ever grown up with... and also because he didn't have to be anything in particular here. No one cared.

He was organizing some of the berries when he looked up and saw someone new come in and sit down, a wolf around his age with shades of grey and blue eyes, someone he didn't recognize, which wasn't surprising since there were so many faces in and out of here. He had walked in with a confident kind of swagger that Monarch saw a lot around here... but he was never sure if it was true or put-on. He paused a moment, glancing around to see if anyone else was going to serve him, before grabbing some berries and bringing them over.

He placed them down and took a step back to keep distance. It didn't do well to get into anyone's faces. ”Here's some of our mild stuff, but you'll have to go over to those pits to get anything harder,” he said, gesturing to where some of the berries were mashed and aged in the ground. It made them stronger than the ones still on the stem. ”I'm Monarch,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact and devoid of much else, his posture, face and gaze also purposefully neutral. ”Just started bartending here. Do you come often?” he asked, wondering if that was too personal. But he wanted to become aware of the regulars, at least.

kinda guessing how bartending works with wolves, lol please let me know if I should change my interpretation

@Carlos