Literature
Wineglass
She can hardly believe it. The one place that she couldn't be caught at dead nine months ago, she is at, enjoying a glass of wine. She isn't afraid of the place anymore. Well, when there are her old friends in the bar, anyways. Old friends like Casey, who just entered the bar from the back door, unlike her habit of simply appearing behind the bar like she usually does. Hello Casey, she says with a smile.
Casey, a chinchilla spirit that tended the trees around the bar-brothel, set down the potted rose bush she carries everywhere, looking to the group in the bar. Hullo Arf Arf, Cindy, Hannah, a few furres I don't know