Can't Be That Bad - The Wayward

Monika walked into the front room of the Wayward feeling tired, yet satisfied. Aside from her white-grey hair, she looked younger than she was, a blessing she attributed to her mother's Indian blood. There were some crow's feet around her tired eyes, but the wrinkles hadn't quite etched into her forehead yet. Few would mistake young-looking for pretty-looking around her, though; her broad shoulder, relatively straight hips and hooked nose gave her a distinctly manly posture, one that her bosom couldn't quite distract from.

She was wiping her hands on a cloth and debating what to have for a meal when she heard a gruff, familiar voice to her left. “Alec Henderson, pleasure is all mine.” She turned and saw Alec shaking the hand of a stranger, some wiry-looking older bloke she'd never seen before. He looked like a rake that was puppeteering several smaller rakes. “Actually, I was getting ready to take up some hunts," Alec continued, unaware of her eavesdropping. "If you’re looking to lend a hand, I could use a partner.”

"You, partnering up, Alec?" Monika said aloud. The faintest trace of German still lingered in her accent; it had been years since anyone had commented on it, and she assumed she may be the only one who still heard it. She had a notion she did not converse with others enough for it to be worn from her voice completely. She tucked the cloth in her back pocket and strode over to the two gentlemen who were now looking around at the source of the intrusion. "When did you turn this social, hm?"

She turned to the stranger and held out a hand. "Name's Monika. Welcome to the Wayward. I'm a cleaner around these parts, and I don't mean mopping. Let me know if you need something disposed of."

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