Typically Thaeron would be on the lookout in an establishment like this- as seedy as it was. Not for threats (he did that automatically) but for entertainment. Entertainment in the form of someone with whom to flirt. Normally he would have noticed the ivory and amber mare as she pushed through the door, a veritable angel in the low-lit darkness as she glowed in the lantern flame. He might have given her a side glance, his infamous smirk painting the dark lips, hoping to catch her eye. Then he would have bought her a drink, sidled over and struck up a conversation. As it was he noticed her only when the soft plunk of glass on wood greeted his audits. But noticed her he did. Despite the liquor flowing through his veins (or perhaps because of it), despite the misery that painted his heart in darkness he could not deny that his heart skipped a beat. Slowly he raised his gaze from the glass of amber set before him, travelling up the pale expanse of her neck to the fiery eyes that regarded him. Tipping his head to one side, his mass of dark curls and bronze jewellery writhing and dancing with the movement, he regarded her back. For a moment. And then a smile played swiftly across his lips. It did not reach his eyes, nor did it exude the warmth and charm he usually painted his lips with, but it as a smile nonetheless.
“That I could,” he said thickly, his deep voice hoarse. “To whatever shit life keeps dishing out,” he raised his glass, the red of his telekinesis swirling softly and tipped it lazily in her direction before throwing it back roughly. He relished the burn, dull as it was by now. It never truly scorched away the pain that clung to every nuance of his soul, the memories that haunted him waking and sleeping. Centuries had passed and yet there was not a day he didn’t miss what he’d lost. And there was not a day he didn’t remember what he’d done.
“Now what would a goddess like you be doing in a place like this?” Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps it was the mood, but his words were not as smooth as usual. Nevertheless he tried, his blood-hewn eyes lighting up just slightly with silent humour, his smile rueful as though he could tell how poor an attempt he’d made at charming her. The winged creature was radiant, gleaming in ivory and orange like a creature of flame. She stood out among the rowdy crowds, a dove among crow, and yet as she tipped the shot back she seemed perfectly at ease.