[ Wen Qing doesn't usually frequent taverns, even when she'd been alive, but those lists are needed, and so she finds herself marching into one, chin held high, shoulders back. She's walked through worse crowds without concern, this bunch hardly makes her blink.
What does make her blink is the pungent smell coming from the glass. She stares at it for a moment, then turns to the redhead who warns her against it.
She's smelled stronger vinegars from her own medical work and from her uncle's attempts at wine-making, but this is distinctly unlike those. ] Is the swill they serve here that bad?
ii. proscription (tavern's version)
What does make her blink is the pungent smell coming from the glass. She stares at it for a moment, then turns to the redhead who warns her against it.
She's smelled stronger vinegars from her own medical work and from her uncle's attempts at wine-making, but this is distinctly unlike those. ] Is the swill they serve here that bad?