tardif’s four-sheets to the wind and counting and audrey doesn’t envy him the hangover he’ll be facing once he dries out. she’s had her fair share of bad-nights-and-worse-mornings, so she sits and nurses her drink with a bit more care.

      he’s got a point on the first half of his answer -- they’re not hired for their livability, they’re hired because they get the job done while they can. as for the second half. . .

...sounds like a good start. Dismas raised an eyebrow at those annoyed comments, reacting with nothing but a loud groan. Out of all the people he had to deal with, why a goddamn bounty hunter?! He was sure there were plenty of adventurers who would’ve loved to sell their life for a quick buck...!

Dismas barely spares a glance up towards the faceless hunter. He swirls his ale idly, preferring it to answering the other immediately.  Justice.

@collectedbounty

Dismas sighs, the breath through his teeth stressed and concerned. A flesh wound. That’s better than a mortal would, at least. He helps the hunter out of his gambeson and sits him down on the bunk. It’s a wound alright. Bleeding into his undershirt, red and ugly. 

Too deep for comfort. 

He sighs, touching the cloth beside his wound. He’d have to get water, at least. Maybe see if he can nick some herbs and bandages from the provisions storage.