mogget_cat: (g-do not trust this smile)
From the bar, the two of them step out into the humid, New Orleans night. The clouds cover the stars and moon, leaving it up to the streetlamps to cast light upon the people who are out and about this evening.

There's the scent of rain in the air. Rain, and the scents of people, cheap hot dogs, alcohol, and the underlying scent of the city, always there.

"It's not far. Just a few blocks over," Yrael says as she looks out at Bourbon St.
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Yrael, the Eighth Bright Shiner

June 2016

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