I entered shyly,
Tall figures filled the vibrant room,
Music blaring.
The music told stories:
Fables of adventure,
And tales of true love.
As the music spoke,
The dance painted the picture,
I could feel their lives.
I sat at the bar,
My skinny figure out of place,
A tree by mountains.
Two gents beside me,
One talked as the other drank,
I overheard them.
I heard stoic tales,
Told by the one.
Drunk as he was, he was smart.
Quick to a punchline,
And with a voice of pure honesty.
A true man.
With froth in his beard,
He looked toward me,
His darkish eyes lit up now.
"Oy lad!", he bellowed,
His gruff voice resembled pure joy,
"Come drink with us!"
His command was law.
I swiftly sat next to him,
His presence was warm.
His breath regrouped,
"What's a squirt like you doing 'ere?"
He laughed fondly.
I had no answer,
But there's no way I'd lie,
He would see through me.
"An adventurer",
That's all I could come up with,
Was my lie that bad?
His whiskers flickered,
Those eyes peered deep in my soul,
The laughter had ceased.
I think I saw death.
He went back to his drink now,
And chugged it in one.
He prepared his words,
"Is that so little one?!",
His warm aura returned.
Safe...
He erupted into deep laughter,
And ordered another drink.
He was different,
He seemed like a true heroic,
Or just a drunk...