I'll be putting this one in the main gallery because, although it is brief and rushed, I'm quite happy with it. Enjoy!
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053. Destination

"Life has a strange way of working things out for you when you're not looking. You become so focused on this one thing, whatever it is, that you unwittingly blind yourself to everything else around you. You become so accustomed to shuffling through your daily existence that everything you do becomes a blur. The world around you sinks into the shadows, and it's easy for you to vanish..."


Jace pulled his cloak tighter around him and trudged through the growing drifts. The arctic wind howled through the streets behind him, piercing even his thick half-breed fur to chill him to the bone. Blast these northern winters! What was he even doing out here anyway? Middle of the winter, middle of the night, not a soul to be seen; he must be losing his mind. He wouldn't have even left his room if he'd been able to fall asleep, but no, for some reason, all he'd been able to do was toss and turn for hours. That had never happened to him before. Luckily, very few of his contracts thus far had tested his conscience, but even then, the sheer exhaustion had allowed him to sink into a deep slumber.

Maybe it was the cold keeping him awake? If he went out for a brisk walk, the room would seem warmer by comparison, and he could finally get some rest. Nonsense, the cold had never bothered him before. He and his father had spent plenty of time in the mountains of Kahdza’iit, hunting and hiking, without so much as a stuffy nose. What the blazes was causing this sudden insomnia? H was still asking himself the same question when he saw the glow of lantern light in the snow drifts ahead, and looked up. Ahead sat the only lit building in town, a cantina called the Glass Half Full.

Oh...right...

Now he remembered. He'd come hear the night before, just looking for a drink and a friendly crowd. There was that raptor gal behind the bar. Purple and gold feathers looked pretty good on her, though he'd managed to keep his foot out of his mouth on that accord. She wouldn't have taken anything he said seriously anyway. That's how bartenders worked, didn't they? At least, that's how he'd act if he were surrounded by foul-smelling folks in various states of inebriation. The whiskey was good, though. Definitely worth one more taste before he left for good.

So, with newfound sense of purpose, he strode up to the door and stepped inside. As the heavy oak door swung shut behind him, he closed his eyes for a moment and basked in the warmth of the room. Definitely better than shuffling through the blizzard outside.

"Hey, can't you read? We're closed."

Or maybe not. Jace's eyes shot open and he realized suddenly that the place was empty. Tables covered with upturned chairs blocked most of his view of the bar, but it had to be one of the bartenders that was yelling at him. It couldn't be that late already, could it? Where was every - Right, blizzard. He glanced over his shoulder at the door, where a sign hung in the window: Open. Of course, since he could read open while inside...

"Hey dumbass, get out!"

The voice was certainly female, but he didn't remember the raptor gal's voice sounding like that.

Cha-chack. However, there was no way to forget the sound of a shotgun being chambered. Instinctively, he rested his hand on his holstered pistol, but thought better of it. No shots fired; best just to leave. Hearing steady footfalls and spotting movement among the chairs, he turned quickly for the door, just as...

"I said...!"

"I'm sorry!" he shouted, spinning around with his hands raised. And his mind went blank.

Standing behind him with shotgun raised was not the taloned raptor gal, but her friend, a red and cream-furred shepherd. She wore a brown high-collared jacket open to reveal a light blue top that seemed a bit too tight for her, and too short, exposing her midriff. Brown pants completed her wardrobe, with a odd charm hanging from her left hip. Was that the faint scent of whiskey in the air? But, first things first, he re-focused on the black barrel pointed at his face. Her eyes scanned him up and down. God, if she saw the sidearms on his hips, she might shoot him right here. Luckily, she stopped and squinted at his face.

"Take off your hood," she murmured, gesturing with her shotgun. Jace complied, and her expression flickered. "I know you." She sounded more disappointed than surprised.

Jace, however, could not contain his shock as memory fragments from the night before started lining up again. It hadn't been the raptor gal who'd poured his drinks after all. It was her, this shepherd girl - oh, what was her name! He silently cursed himself as his cheeks flushed. He knew he'd had at least three rounds, straight and neat. God only knows what he said to her. The least he could do was apologize.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, cringing as his voice came out shaky. "I didn't see the sign, I... I didn't mean anything by it. I'll leave."

The shepherd gal's furrowed brow lightened. "Well, it's partly my fault for leaving the damn door unlocked." She suddenly looked down at her shotgun as though surprised that it was in her hands, and quickly lowered it. "Sorry about that. Usually it's just drunks that come around this hour, and this is the only language they understand coming from a set of tits."

Jace couldn't suppress a laugh as he lowered his hands. "I'm glad your long arm didn't feel the need to bark tonight. Does...that mean I can stay a moment and warm up?"

"Yeah," she sighed, slipping through the maze of tables, "it would have been a pain to clean your brains off the door anyway."

"Clean up?" he said over a nervous chuckle, following her. "I'd be more worried about the cops."

She snorted. "Around here? Please. Middle of the night, strange guy gets into a clearly closed bar with me all by myself..." She shoots him a smile over her shoulder as she slides over the bar. "Even the crooked cops would call that justified."

Jace leaned an elbow on the bar. "You sound very sure."

"It doesn't hurt that my brother's a cop."

He couldn't tell if that was a simple statement, or a warming. "Noted," he replied with curt nod.

She reached under the bar and brought up an open bottle of whiskey, which explained the scent. That, and the fact that it was a bar. He was surprised again when she brought up too glasses.

"Care for a drink to warm yourself?"

"How much?" he asked, reaching into his vest.

"This one's on the house," she replied with a smirk, "as an apology for me almost shooting you."

Hoping he'd managed a genuine smile, "Well, thank you, Miss..." Suddenly his cheeks were burning again. "I'm sorry, but I must admit I've forgotten your name."

If possible, her grin sharpened. "No you didn't. Finish your drink and you'll remember."

He raised his brow, but shrugged and drained his glass in one quick gulp. There at the bottom was a two-word engraving : Anna's Cantina. "Well, Anna," he continued, setting his glass aside, "it's a pleasure to meet you again."

She took his offered hand and shook it. "Likewise, Jace, but what are you still doing here? You told me last night that you were planning to leave today."

Jace imagined himself drunkenly rambling on while she listened politely. How strange that she would remember anything he'd said. Maybe... It was a long shot, but what did he have to lose? "Actually, something's just come up. I think I'll be here for a while yet..."

Smiling, Anna raised her glass. "I'll drink to that."


"...But luckily, when you need it most, and usually when you least expect it, a light appears to guide you out of the dark. Angels take many forms, and it's easy to be surprised, but then you'll wonder how you didn't see it all along. Lucky for us that angels are so patient...and forgiving."